


catch those pieces as they scatter

by lostintranslaation



Series: Touching Heaven [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), F/M, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt Tony Stark, Insomnia, Kidnapping, Medical Inaccuracies, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Parent Pepper Potts, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Precious Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Suicide Attempt, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Torture, no beta we die like men, sm: ffh kind of happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-01-22 01:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 75,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostintranslaation/pseuds/lostintranslaation
Summary: It occurred to Tony. After the first Snap, much more than half of the world’s population was lost. Between the Snap, accidents relating to people who were dusted, and the depression that consumed many of the remaining, causing some to decide they didn’t want to live in a world without their loved ones, the world had lost so much more than fifty percent of its population.Tony should have realized it would be no different this time around.Maybe Thanos won, after all.OrFive years. Five years of Peter's life, gone. Everything he knows is in pieces. Thankfully, he has some people around him who are willing to help him pick up the shards.Title is from "Let it Matter" by Johnnyswim.This work is a part of a series. I recommend that you read it in order. (But you do you boo boo)
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Shuri, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Touching Heaven [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577413
Comments: 211
Kudos: 414
Collections: The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best Fics





	1. say goodnight instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! This is the first fic I've ever written, so sorry if it sucks. It was majorly inspired by StarryKnight09 's "Out of Darkness" collection and madasthesea 's "what you were then i am today" series. Those were the first fics I ever read and I would HIGHLY recommend them to anyone who loves a good whump. Anyway, if you can think of any ways I can improve my writing or formatting or anything, definitely let me know. But also keep in mind that I am a fragile human being so please be gentle. Enjoy!

Thanos looked at him, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “I am inevitable.” he drew out, closing his fingers to snap the rest of life out of existence.

_Clank. Clank._

His face fell in confusion as he turned his fist over to reveal empty holes where the six Infinity Stones should have been.

Pain. Unrelenting pain was all that Tony knew as the power of the Stones surged through his veins in white hot rivers of power. Tony looked down at his arm, now covered in rainbow-colored streaks of death. His breath hitches as his eyes rise to meet Thanos’.

“And… I… Am… Iron Man.”

Tony’s fingers started to close around the snap when he feels a strong hand on his shoulder.

“But we are the Avengers.”

Tony turned around to meet Steve’s gaze, only to see a chain of everyone else holding hands behind him. There wasn’t a single person on their side disconnected from the chain. “Go on.” Steve urged him. Tony snapped, and just like that, the world fell away into dust. The battle is won.

It’s over.

When Tony came to, he was in a room all alone. Wait, no. There was a young woman with him that looked somewhat like T’Challa. Tony’s eyes drifted around the room as he tried to figure out where he was, why he was there. When he tried to get up, he was greeted with a soaring rush of pain that knocked him back down. The girl turned around.

“Well, look who finally decides to wake up.” she started, “My name is Shuri, T’Challa’s sister. You have been out for three days.”

“Pepper,” Tony interrupted, “Peter?”

“They are both asleep. It is currently three twenty-seven in the morning, on April thirtieth, two-thousand and eighte--” she caught herself, “two-thousand and twenty-three. As I was saying before you interrupted me, it has been three days since the battle. When you snapped your fingers, Thanos and his army turned to dust. Your right arm and shoulder were badly damaged, but with the use of modern medicine I expect that you will make a full recovery, with only a few limitations. You were incredibly lucky that Steve started the chain; it is the reason that you are still alive.” She stood up and set down her clipboard, “I will be back in a moment, if you need anything, press that button," she pointed to the call button conveniently located next to Tony’s good arm. Tony tried to nod, but it came out more like a jerky neck spasm. Shuri gave a tight-lipped smile and a curt head-nod and left the room.

Tony closed his eyes as he tried not to focus on the searing pain in his right arm. Had it really been three days since the battle? Since he saw Peter again, since Pepper and him fought side-by-side? Wait. If Pepper was with him, who was watching Morgan? Did Happy stay behind to look over them? His mind was spiraling with a million questions until he heard footsteps coming toward him. He tried to turn his head to face the door, but it proved to be pointless, as the cast covering his arm, shoulder, and neck didn’t allow for much movement.

“Tony,” Pepper’s breathless voice rushed in to the room, and she ran over to his side, pressing a kiss onto his forehead.

“Pep,” he pulled her into a hug with his good arm.

She cupped his face in her hands, hardly believing her eyes. She smiled and a few rogue tears slipped down her cheeks. Tony didn’t remember the last time that he’d seen the circles under her eyes so dark. Guilt panged at his stomach. _You’re so lucky to have her_. Someone clears their throat in the corner of the room. Tony’s eyes rise up to meet Peter’s.

“Uh, hi Mister Stark,” Peter slowly walked toward Tony, as if walking faster would break the man. “I just wanted to say hi.” Tony motioned for Peter to come closer with his good arm, and Pepper shuffled around to Tony’s other side to give Tony and Peter some space. When Peter reached Tony, he practically collapsed into the older man, “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Peter whispered. Tony looked up at Pepper and tried to smile. She smiled back, and his heart was full.

The next time Tony woke up, he was able to think much more clearly. The room was nearly empty, save for Pepper and Morgan, Pepper reading, and Morgan coloring.

“Daddy!” She got up from where she was coloring, “Look what I drew! It’s you and me and Mommy.” She held the drawing in front of his face, her other fist full of crayons. Three stick-figures holding hands with humongous smiles plastered on their faces stared back at Tony. It was moments like these when Tony couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such an amazing life.

“Wow! That looks,” Tony cleared his throat as he realized how hoarse and dry his voice sounded from days of disuse. He looked over at Pepper, “Could you grab me a cup of water?” When Pepper returned with water, Tony drank the entire glass like he was dying of thirst. “That looks amazing,” he finished, and Morgan beamed. He cupped his hand on the back of her head and kissed her forehead. He patted the empty space on the bed next to him and Morgan climbed up, nestling under his good arm. Tony set the crayons and the drawing on the table next to his bed and Pepper pulled her chair closer to the bed to take Tony’s hand. The drawing on the table watched over them as Tony fell asleep again, a depiction of the life Tony never thought he could have.

The next day was the day when Tony’s arm cast was scheduled to come off. With the advanced Wakandan technology that had been employed to heal his charred skin, Shuri mentioned that, with a vibranium sleeve worn over his arm and shoulder, he would be back to normal within two weeks. Of course, rehabilitation would take longer than two weeks, but it shouldn’t prove to be a big problem in the future. When Shuri removed the cast, Tony looked away. Instead, he chose to look over at Pepper, his eyes glued to her as Shuri drilled the plaster off his shoulder, watching her face as she watched the cast come off, searching her expression for clues as to how his arm looked.

“It will be okay, Tony,” she reassured him, squeezing his other hand.

When Shuri pulled the cast off, it took all Pepper had in her not to gasp in shock, her stomach turning. She tried not to let the surprise show on her face, and was immensely glad that she accepted Peter’s offer to babysit Morgan.

_“It will help me pass the time while Happy looks for May.”_ Peter had insisted. _“Really, I don’t mind. I love hanging out with kids.”_ Even though Morgan was eager to spend as much time with Tony as she possibly could, Pepper thought it best that Morgan not see these kind of things so early in life.

Though Tony can tell that Pepper tried her best to hide her surprise, he knew that it was bad.

“You must give the arm and shoulder some time to heal.” Shuri began, “Your skin was burnt very badly, and your nerves and muscles have been damaged as well.” Tony turned away from Pepper, his eyes bouncing to look at his injured arm. The sight was grotesque. Blackened skin was flaking off in places, and his arm looked like the flesh and muscle had been boiled off, leaving behind just skin and bone.

“The skin will need to be cleaned at least two times a day,” Shuri continued, beckoning for Pepper to join her on the other side of Tony, “I am going to teach you how to clean the area so you may go home sooner.” Pepper hesitantly walked to Tony’s other side, looking a little green-around-the-gills.

“Okay, first you take this antibacterial solution and spray it all over his arm.” She handed Pepper the spray bottle, looking at her expectantly.

“Um, alright,” Pepper started, taking the spray bottle of solution from Shuri. Hands shaking, she spritzed Tony’s arm tentatively. “Does it sting?” she asked, bringing her eyes up to meet Tony’s.

“No. Is it supposed to?”

The two turn to Shuri, expectantly, “In first and second-degree burns, stinging is completely normal. But because your burns are much deeper,” she gestured to the charred skin on Tony’s arm, “it is possible that you may not ever regain feeling in the skin. However, I expect that you will still be able to rehabilitate the limb and rebuild muscle strength in your arm.”

Pepper remembered the time that Tony had her replace his arc reactor, asking him to never ever ever ever ever ever ever ask her to do anything like that ever again. Shuri’s voice cut through Pepper’s thoughts, “Alright. We have to wear gloves for this next part.” She handed the box of blue latex gloves to Pepper.

After she snapped on a pair, Shuri handed her a tube of clear ointment. “Next you take a little of this on your fingers,” she demonstrated, squeezing the tube so a small amount of salve comes out onto her gloved hands, “And gently apply onto the affected skin, being very careful not to be too rough,” she finished, applying the ointment to the skin in light, circular motions.

“This much?” Pepper confirmed, as she squeezed a little salve onto her fingers.

“Yes. Just like that. You’re doing great.”

Pepper set down the tube and tapped her fingers together a couple of times to get the ointment on both hands. “Okay,” she took a shaky breath and started to apply the salve. Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of nausea hit her out of nowhere, and she ran into the bathroom attached to Tony’s room and vomited into the toilet.

Shuri and Tony exchanged glances, and Tony moved to get up.

“Mister Stark, you really should sit down,” Shuri tried, but it was no use. When Tony Stark wanted to do something, Tony Stark would do something.

“No, Shuri I can handle this.” Tony said, getting up from his bed, taking the few steps from his bed to the bathroom, making sure to drag his IV hanger along.

By the time he got there, his clothes were damp with sweat and he was already out of breath. He sat with his back against the side of the tub while Pepper dry-heaved into the toilet, trying his best to hold her hair away from her face with only one hand. When she was finished, Shuri brought her a glass of water and some mouthwash.

“I’m sorry,” Pepper said, eyes bright with unshed tears, “I’m the worst, Tony. I can’t even handle something as simple as cleaning your arm.”

“No, Pep, you’re not the worst. It’s okay.” She moved so that she was now laying with her head in his lap, her tears falling onto Tony’s fleece sweatpants. They sat there for a moment, him brushing his fingers through her hair, in a picture of unconventional comfort.

After a few minutes, Pepper pulled herself up off the tile floor of the bathroom to help Tony up and back into bed.

“For today, I will finish treating his skin,” Shuri said, looking at Pepper, “but pay attention so you will know what to do in the future.”

“Alright. Sorry about that.” Pepper apologized, “Sometimes I get a little squeamish around things like this.”

“That is completely alright Miss Potts,” Shuri said, “It’s more common than you would think during the first couple of times,” she laughed, finishing applying the salve and wrapping his hand, arm, and shoulder in a sleeve.

As she was finishing up, Morgan’s telltale giggle floated down the hallway.

“Guess Peter’s done,” Tony laughed half halfheartedly, his eyelids drooping in fatigue. He hated being this exhausted all the time.

Pepper walked out into the hallway to greet the pair, shushing them before they entered the room.

The duo walked in, hand in hand with Morgan leading the way, and Peter following where she led, eyes full of adoration for the vivacious four-year-old.

“She wanted to take a nap with you.” Peter grinned sheepishly as Morgan hopped up into her dad’s bed.

“That is just fine. Come 'ere Morgs.” he puts his arm around his daughter and she immediately relaxed, and within minutes, she was asleep.

“How are you doing, Peter? You look tired,” Pepper commented.

“I’m alright Miss Potts. Thank you for aski-”

“Pepper,” she interrupted, “you can call me Pepper, Peter.”

“Oh, ok. Thank you Miss Po-- Pepper,” he smiled. “So, Mister Stark-”

“Hey, kid, same goes for me. Tony,” Tony followed.

“Alright, Tony, I know you’ve been busy with,” he gestured to the rest of the room, “recovering and everything, but I was wondering if you’ve heard anything about my aunt. I asked Happy to look for her, but I haven’t heard anything from him so I was wanting to know if he told you anything. If not, no worries, I was just-”

“What about your aunt?” Tony questioned.

“Well, not everyone has been found after the Snap, and I’m sure it would be difficult to keep track of everyone in a situation like this, and all of our phones were disconnected so it’s not like we can text each other or anything, so I asked Happy if you could maybe use some Stark Tech to help find her, facial recognition or something, but I understand you’re very busy so-” Tony puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Of course I’ll help you find your aunt,” Tony says, dropping his hand, “But first, I’m going to get a little more sleep.” he smiled, stifling a yawn.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Peter stumbled to get up, “Thank you Tony.”

“No problem, kid.”

Walking out of the room, Peter caught Shuri’s eye, “Hey, you were the girl with the sweet Nikes on the battlefield, right? That was awesome!”

“Well, what other shoes was I supposed to fight in? I actually made some cool modifications to mine, would you like to see? I call them _‘sneakers’_.” The rest of their conversation echoed down the hallway.

“Tony.” Tony’s attention was pulled back to Pepper. “Happy already looked into the May situation.” Tony waited for her to continue, but she seemed stuck, searching for words that didn’t exist. “She was on a bus when she was dusted.”

It occurred to Tony. After the first Snap, much more than half of the world’s population was lost. Between the Snap, accidents relating to people who were dusted, and the depression that consumed many of the remaining, causing some to decide they didn’t want to live in a world without their loved ones, the world had lost so much more than fifty percent of its population.

Tony should have realized it would be no different this time around.

_Maybe Thanos won, after all_. Tony quickly shoved that thought away. It may be true, but dwelling on the fact definitely didn’t help anything.

Pepper continued talking, “I should have told you this a long long time ago, but before-” she paused, “you know, she talked to me about changing her will. She didn’t have any family other than Peter, and she thought it best for Peter to be with us if anything should happen to her. She said that it was important that Peter would be with people who knew about Spider-Man and that care about him.” She saw Tony’s shocked expression and added, “She told me not to tell you. She wanted to bring it up in her own time. But then after they were dusted, it just,” she trailed off, “It just didn’t seem necessary.”

Tony didn’t know what to say.

“How will we tell him?” Pepper looked down. How do you tell someone that their last living relative died?

How do you tell someone that the only person left in their world is gone?

Later that day, when Shuri was cleaning Tony’s arm for the second time, they’d called Peter in to tell him what happened.. He’d internally predicted the news before the words even escaped Pepper’s mouth. Tony watched as the hope in Peter’s eyes left, fear settling in in its place. Tony tried to assure Peter that he wasn’t alone, that him and Pepper and Morgan would be there for him but Peter barely heard him. He stood up, trying to hide the tears that were about to overflow.

Tony and Pepper looked at each other. That did not go well.

But then again, could telling someone that the last member of their family died really go well?

_She’s gone. _

_shesgoneshesgoneshesgoneshesgone_.

Every time that this had happened before, May was always there for him, to help him process his grief. But now, she was gone. Peter ducked into the nearest bathroom and stood there for a moment staring at his reflection in the mirror.

_You are completely alone._

_You’re alone._

_You’re alone and have nowhere to go._

_What do I do now? Where will I go? How will I get back to Queens? Oh, man, do I still live in Queens? Will I have to live in a foster home?_

Peter knew that there was nobody to take care of him now. Ben and May were in his parent’s will, and he knew that May was on Ben’s will and that Ben was on May’s. There was nobody there for him.

His breathing hitched and his heart pounded. He clutched at the collar of his shirt, desperately trying to force air into his lungs, choking. His vision spotted and he collapsed onto the cool bathroom floor.

_I am going to die._

_I guess it makes sense that it all should end like this_. He thought, _I can survive a freaking building being collapsed on top of me, but not this. Fitting._

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he realized he didn’t want to die. He felt himself, back on Titan, body being ripped apart as his healing factor frantically tried to stitch his cells back together, but failing again and again and again until all he saw was darkness.

Pain.

So. Much. Pain.

He let out a strangled cry and Shuri knocked on the door before pushing it open.

“Peter?”

“Peter. Peter. Look at me,” she commanded, kneeling down next to him on the floor, and Peter followed her instructions. “Breathe. Come on, breathe with me,” she continued, taking loud, exaggerated breaths for Peter to mimic. After a few moments, Peter’s breathing finally calmed down, and his shoulders slumped.

“I know it does not seem like things will ever be okay again, but they will.” Shuri started, rubbing Peter’s back, “I cannot even imagine what you are going through,” Peter looks up at her with glossy eyes, “Please let me know if I can do anything to help you.”

“Do you,” Peter’s voice cracked, “do you have any food?” he asked, as his stomach grumbled.

“Of course!” She pushed herself up from where she was sitting, “I will be right back.”

Peter swallowed the nausea rising up in his throat. _I am alone_.

Pepper tentatively pushed the door open. “Peter, honey, are you alright?”

Seeing Pepper sent another wave of sadness washing over him as he realized once again that May will never comfort him again. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he got up to drink some water from the sink faucet.

He sat back down on the floor, back against the wall and Pepper sat next to him and draped an arm around his shoulders.

Shuri reentered the bathroom with a tray full of fresh Wakandan fruit. She handed it to Peter, who graciously accepted it. “Bone apple teeth,” she said, and Peter gave a weak smile. Tears pricked his eyes again. _I can't do this,_ Peter thought, and his face crumpled as he hung his head.

Shuri set the tray on the floor and pulled Peter in for a hug, Pepper joining them, tears clouding Shuri’s vision. She had only known Peter for a day but it felt like they had known each other for their entire lives. She didn’t know everything about him, but what she did know that Peter wasn’t going to do this alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Sorry if some parts seemed choppy or out-of-place, believe it or not, I took out two major subplots, so the choppy bits are the remains of said subplots. Also, I was planning on writing out the entire series, editing, then posting weekly, but I'm 3 chapters in and decided I couldn't wait. So if I can't post regularly, I apologize. Let me know how I can make this better!
> 
> Title is from "Say Goodnight Instead" by Johnnyswim.  
I want to make every chapter named after a Johnnyswim song because I adore them, but I guess we'll see if that pans out:)


	2. it was always you and me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took everything in me not to post this early. I'm just trying not to get ahead of myself here so I don't burn out. I hope you all are having as much fun reading this story as I'm having writing it! Enjoy!

It was moving day. The room that Tony had hardly left for the past week was empty and he felt weirdly nostalgic. His life would never be the same. He would have to relearn everything he knew how to do before his arm was trashed. But the important part:

Everyone is back. 

_ Peter _ is back. 

Happy looked into May’s will. They really were Peter's secondary guardians. 

“Hey, honey,” Pepper and Morgan walked in, hand-in-hand. “You all ready?”

“Yep!” he grabbed his duffel bag off his bed and slung it over his good shoulder. “Let’s go pick up Peter and head outta here.” He had spoken with Peter the night before, through his locked door. He wouldn’t see anyone except Shuri. Tony had offered for Peter to come live with him and Morgan and Pepper at the Tower, and Peter had hesitantly agreed. 

Tony knocked on Peter’s door, and waited for it to open, “Hey, kid. You ready to go?”

Peter nodded. “Thank you.” Peter and Tony made eye contact, but Peter quickly broke it, “for everything.” His eyes were red and puffy and vacant. It was like he was only a shell of the kid he used to be. 

Tony clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder. His heart ached for the kid. He had lost _ everything_. After Tony told Peter that he would be coming home with Tony and his family, Tony called his lawyer and told him that he was taking in the kid. Tony was now Peter’s official legal guardian. Tony didn’t know when he would tell Peter about this, or about anything. It seemed like Peter just didn’t want to be approached about anything. 

They and the rest of the team who would be staying in the Tower since the Compound was destroyed all walked out the the jet together. Tony and Pepper both decided that each Avenger could have their own floor if they chose, or live on another’s floor. _ It’s the least we can do_, they thought. Everything looked like it would work out.

On the plane, Morgan sat with Peter and chose to watch _ Jurassic Park_. It amazed Tony to see how similar Morgan was turning out to be like Peter. It was like he had always been around for her, even though they just met last week. Tony pulled out his Stark laptop and took a deep breath. A week-and-a-half long hiatus from the company couldn’t have been good for business. 

Tony sighed. About five hundred unread emails from the past week screamed for his attention. As the plane lifted off Wakandan soil, Tony put his head down to crank out some work. 

  
  


When they all got back to the Tower, they all rode up together in the elevator, people leaving one group at a time as the elevator stopped at their floors. When the Starks reached their floor, the penthouse, Morgan raced out of the elevator. “We’re home!” she exclaimed, running around the apartment. Pepper followed her, and Tony took a step in the same direction, halted by the sight of Peter in the corner of the elevator. He looked frozen in place, empty.

"You coming, Pete?"

“I can’t do this,” he whispered.

Tony walks over to where Peter was standing and puts a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Pete. But you have to. I know you’re scared. But we’re all here for you.” Peter looked at Tony, tears welling up in his eyes, “We’re here for whatever you need.” Peter turned to him , and Tony opened his arms. As soon as Peter was in his arms, he broke down, his whole body racked with sobs that threatened to collapse him. And Tony stood there, running his fingers through Peter’s hair, determined to do whatever it takes for Peter to heal. 

Tony remembered what it had been like the first few days after his parents were killed. He had truly been all alone. Obadiah had been there, but for the sole purpose of pressuring Tony into stepping up to take over Stark Industries. He would never wish the kind of loneliness that he experienced then on his worst enemies. _ Peter will be okay, _ Tony thought, _ he has to be_.

They stood there, in the open elevator, until Peter exhausted himself. Dehydrated and hungry, Peter followed Tony out of the elevator and into the kitchen, where Tony was determined to fix Peter enough scrambled eggs to fill him up, even with his enhanced metabolism. 

The process of cracking eggs with only one good arm was painstaking. “This is harder than I thought it’d be,” Tony says with a laugh and a half-shrug. After three failed attempts at cracking the eggs, Tony suggested, “What do you think of ordering Chinese instead?”

Peter just shrugged and said, “Sure. I’m really tired though, so I think I’m just gonna go lay down for a little while.”

“Okay, kid. Your room is right over here,” Tony led the way over to a room bigger than Peter’s old apartment down the hallway. “This is where you’ll be staying, so feel free to do with it what you like,” Tony said. Peter could only nod in response. 

  
  


_ This whole room is mine? _ He could hardly believe it. But then reality sank in and guilt panged at his stomach. _ This arrangement isn’t going to last. They’re just going to realize how much better their lives were before you and kick you out to the streets. _“Thanks, Tony.”

“You betcha!” Tony quipped as he walked back down the hallway.

Peter walked across the room and sat on the bed. His bed? Peter didn’t know. He laid down, without even taking his shoes off. Peter didn’t remember the last time he was this tired or hungry or thirsty. He briefly thought about going back out to the kitchen and getting water and a snack, but immediately dismissed the thought, _ Don’t be more of a burden than you already are. Besides, _ he thought, _ you would probably just throw it all up anyway. _ He sighed, remembering the past few days, hardly able to keep anything down. Shuri tried her best to keep him hydrated and full, but his stomach just _ couldn’t_.

His mind was swimming. Words, thoughts, phrases, emotions he didn’t know how to express. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that merciful sleep would take him away from his current situation. But when sleep finally did take him, he couldn’t stop dreaming about May’s last moments, being snapped back into the middle of traffic, eyes wide with horror as a car sped into her, not even having time to pump the brakes. He tried to call out to her, to tell her to move, to save her, but it was too late.

“May!” He woke up in a cold sweat, mouth dry. So dry. Like it was filled with dust. Like he was turning into dust. One moment he was in the bedroom at the Tower, and the next he was back on Titan, not able to keep himself from being torn apart. He stumbled out of bed, body feeling fuzzy, spidey-sense screaming at him, _“DANGER! PETER! DANGER!”_ his vision blackening as he crumpled to the floor.

  
  


“Of course I'm good with taking Peter in!” Pepper laughed at Tony for even thinking there was another option while cleaning his arm for the second time that day.

“I just wanted to let you know what was happening before we make it legal with our attorney.” Tony looked over at Pepper, “He’s a great kid, and I can’t let him go through what I went through after my parents died.”

“Have you told him that we’re his guardians yet?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Tony cleared his throat, “I don’t know if it should just be guardiansh--"

“Boss, Peter has collapsed in his bedroom.” FRIDAY interjected.

“What? Why?” Tony sprung up from where he was sitting, arm unslinged and half-bandaged.

“Peter is severely dehydrated and malnourished.” FRIDAY explained.

“I’ll grab him some water and leftover Chinese, you go make sure he’s okay,” Pepper ordered.

Tony ran down the hallway, hoping he didn’t wake up Morgan from her nap. He rounded the corner to Peter’s room, opened the door, and walked in on him laying in a heap on the ground.

He knelt by Peter, turning him face-up on the ground and lightly slapped his face, “Pete, this isn’t what I thought you meant when you said you were going to go rest.” Pepper walked in behind him with food and water and Peter slowly blinked back into consciousness.

“What happened?” Peter asked, rubbing his palm against his forehead.

“You passed out, kiddo,” Tony helped Peter sit up and Pepper handed him a glass of water, which he immediately drained. “That’s what happens when you don’t eat or drink water.” Tony smiles at Peter and pushed the takeout carton and chopsticks into Peter’s hands, as Pepper left to refill his water glass, setting it on the ground beside him when she returned. 

Peter apologized, lethargically stirring his chow mein with his chopsticks. 

“You need to eat, Pete,” Tony pointed out, noticing Peter’s lack of interest in the Chinese takeout. Peter puts a few noodles in his mouth. He swallows hard and reaches for the refilled glass of water Pepper had brought him. “That’s it, kid. You got it.” 

“I don’t really feel goo--” Peter gagged, hand flying up to cover his mouth, quickly standing up and rushing over to the bathroom across the hallway, coughing up bile and the mouthful of Chinese food in the toilet. 

Tony followed him into the bathroom, and sat on the edge of the tub with a comforting hand on Peter’s back. He had been finding himself in this position way too often lately. “It’s okay, let it out.”

Peter hated feeling this way. Weak. He shook with exertion now as he dry-heaved into the toilet, sweat beading on his forehead. It felt like his stomach might never unclench. “I’m--” he paused as his stomach tightened again, “I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“Kid, do not apologize. I’ve been where you are more times than you can count,” he half-smiled. Pepper peeked her head in the room and Tony mouthed _ “Bruce?” _ and she nodded, walking down the hallway toward the elevator. 

“I just,” Peter’s voice shook as he gripped the toilet bowl and tears dripped off his nose into the water below, “I really miss her, T-Tony.”.

Tony waited until Peter seemed like he was done turning himself inside out, heaves dissolving into quiet whimpers. He handed Peter a dixie cup of water and a paper towel, and Peter rinsed his mouth and wiped his face before turning to Tony, face blotchy and red from crying. Sitting down against the wall, Tony motioned for Peter to come closer, “Bring it in.”

Peter laid down so his head was resting on Tony’s leg. “I wasn’t there for her. She was all a-alone and I couldn’t do _ anything _ for her,” he hiccuped.

Tony was at a loss for words. So he didn’t say anything. It took everything in him not to spout off useless rambling to fill the silence. But he didn’t. He sat there, running his fingers through Peter’s hair as Peter wept in his lap.

Whether it was due to malnutrition or the intense cocktail of grief and jet-lag Tony didn’t know, but after about twenty minutes, Peter was asleep on the bathroom floor, face stained where the tears ran down his cheeks

  
  


Tony poured Bruce a glass of water and set it in front of him on the counter. Amazingly, despite his useless arm, Bruce had still managed to carry Peter from the bathroom to his bedroom with one arm, somehow never waking Peter. “I don’t know what to do,” Tony rubbed his forehead, “He can’t keep anything down, but he needs about three times as much food as the rest of us because of his enhanced metabolism.”

“Well, if bad goes to worse, we can hook him up to an IV to get him some nutrients until his stomach can handle food again,” Bruce picked up his glass and took a drink, “Grief is a tricky thing. Sometimes, it manifests itself in nontraditional ways. For some,” he set his glass down, “it settles in their stomach and makes them inexplicably nauseous. It sounds to me like that’s what’s happening to Peter.”

“So what should we do about it?”

“I’ll go grab him some anti-nausea medicine, but it might not be enough if his metabolism is as fast as you say it is--” he was cut off by the sound of Tony’s ringtone, “I’ll go grab those right now,” he says as Tony picked up the phone. 

“Talk to me,” Tony grumbled into the phone.

“Hey, Boss, the hospital just called asking if we’ve made arrangements for a funeral yet.” _ A funeral, _ Tony had forgotten all about having a funeral, “Uh,” Tony started, trying to give himself more time to think, “Tell them that we’ll call them back tomorrow with plans.”

“Will do.” Happy paused, “How are you doing?”

“I’m just perfect!” Tony hissed, “It’s not like I have a lot on my plate or anything.” Tony stops and takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry. It’s just difficult readjusting to reality. And on top of that, I have a teenager now, who can’t keep any food down, trying to deal with the death of his last living relative, and,” Tony sighed, defeated, “it’s just hard.”

“I know you’re going through a lot right now, but you don’t have to do it alone. There are tons of people around you that want to help you if you’ll let them.”

“I know. Thanks, Happy. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He hung up. His head sagged and he closed his eyes for a moment, exhaustion trying to pull him to sleep. _ Jet-lag sucks, _ he thought. 

He heard Pepper’s heels _ click-clack_ing on the hardwood floor. Her soothing presence flooded the room and she put an arm around Tony’s hunched shoulders. “It will get easier. You just have to hang in there until it does,” she paused, “and I want you to know that whatever you decide about Peter, I support you. I’m with you.” Tony raised his eyes to meet hers.

“I got you.”

“I got you first.” Their lips brushed against each other, an act of affection that had been hard to give and receive recently.

“Ewwww!” Morgan squealed, “That’s gross!”

Pepper and Tony made eye contact, “It’s not _ so _gross,” Pepper said, leaning down to kiss Tony again.

“Yes it is,” Morgan’s bare feet padded over to where her parents were, morning sun shining through her sleep-tousled hair. “What were you saying about Petey?”

Tony beckoned Morgan to where he was sitting, pulling her into his lap and smoothing her hair with his hand, “What do you think of Petey?”

“I like him. He’s really fun to be with.” Morgan mused.

“What would you think of him staying here with us?” Pepper gave Tony a smile of encouragement.

“Like,” Morgan thought for a moment, “for how long?”

Morgan looked up at Tony, “For as long as he wants to stay here.”

She paused for a minute, seeming to weigh her options, “Sure! Could he play with me everyday?”

Pepper laughed, “Well, maybe. If he wants to.” Pepper and Tony shared a smile. This was really happening. 

The elevator dinged and Bruce walked out, pill bottle in hand. “Hi Morgan.”

“Hi Uncle Bruce! I’m going to go read, do you want to come with me?” She asked, hopping off Tony’s lap.

“Maybe in a minute, Morgan. I have to talk with your mommy and daddy for a minute, okay?”

“Okay!” She called out, walking over to her bookshelf.

Bruce set the bottle of pills down on the counter. “With his metabolism, I think three every hour would be enough to keep the nausea at bay.” He checked his watch and adjusted his slinged arm, “You should probably go wake him up so he can take these and actually eat something. I’m going to get going, but let me know if anything else comes up.” He smiled.

Tony nodded in the affirmative and said, “Thanks, Bruce.” as he picked up the pill bottle from the counter, filled another glass of water, and started walking towards Peter’s room.   
  


_ Knock knock. _ Peter’s world slowly faded back into consciousness. Somebody was knocking at the door. Why? He was so hungry. _ Why am I so hungr- oh. _ Memories of the morning reappeared in bits and pieces. Hunger. Chow mein. Sick. Sobbing in Tony’s lap. How did he get back in bed? The door opened.

“Hey kid. Tony stooped over to grab a pill bottle and a glass of water from the floor. _ He must’ve set them there to open the door. _ Peter’s brain fog began to part, just enough for him to start to make sense of his surroundings.

“Bruce brought me these pills for you.” He chuckled, “Normally, I wouldn’t be telling you to pop pills, but these are going to help with your not-being-able-to-keep-anything-down issue.” 

“R-right.” Peter rubbed his eyes, trying to get some clarity, “Thanks Miste-” he caught himself, “Tony.” He accepted the water and the pills, taking them from Tony and popping open the cap on the pill bottle.

“Bruce says that three every hour should account for your metabolism,” he explained. Peter downed three pills, like Tony had instructed him to. Peter felt his empty stomach protest against the water and pills but he tried his best to swallow his nausea and not let his face show how he was feeling.

“Let's get you some food.” Tony helped Peter get up off the bed. Peter’s legs shook like the newborn giraffe he had seen when he was eight years old, on a field trip to Queens Zoo. He hated feeling this weak. 

_ Weak. That’s all you are. Having to have an injured man help you walk across the room like a baby. _ The little voice of doubt in Peter’s head scratched to be let out of the cage and consume Peter, but the pain of his stomach practically collapsing in on itself made those thoughts recede back to where they came from. 

When they made it to the kitchen, Peter practically collapsed onto a bar stool at the counter and Tony hurried over to put four slices of bread in the toaster, pulling out strawberry jam from the fridge. When the toasted bread hopped out of the toaster, Tony slathered each piece in jam, handing them off to Peter when he was done with one to start on another. 

Peter slowed down when he hit the fifth slice of toast. Usually he could eat an entire loaf of bread, but with his already sensitive stomach and the fact that it had been empty for far too long, he could not handle any more food. 

Peter felt weird. He remembered feeling like this when his Uncle Ben died. No, it wasn’t just weird. Peter felt nothing. He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t happy. He couldn’t think. His limbs felt heavy, his eyes dried out after crying too many tears, face crusted with the physical evidence of his grief. 

Peter mumbled a dry-throated, '_thanks'_ to Tony before going back to the room he was staying in. Tony followed him there. 

“Pete, there’s some things we have to talk about.” Peter sat down on his bed and stared at his hands. They were white. Whiter than normal. And they were _ cold_. He was cold. He closed his fists and dug his fingernails into his palms to distract himself from his thoughts. _ This is it, _ Tony pulled up a chair and had a seat, _ he’s going to kick you out and you’re not going to have anywhere to go. _

“The hospital called,” Peter looked up, “They were asking about a funeral.” Peter took a sharp breath in. The statement had surprised him. He didn’t know why. He knew that this was a part of the process. “It will be on Saturday.” Peter counted the days in his head. It was Thursday. At least he thought it was Thursday. Time was a funny concept (especially after being literal dust for five years) and seemed unimportant to Peter in the midst of everything else that was going on. 

“I have most of the schematics worked out, but there’s a few details that I thought you might want to help decide.” He opened his StarkPhone and scrolled down a list he had made. “For flowers, calla lilies or roses?”

“Why--” Peter’s voice was hoarse, “why those flowers?”

“Oh!” Tony scrambled to delete that line on his list, “Is there a different flower you think would be better?”

“No,” Peter paused, “she loved roses. Yellow roses were her favorite. She said,” he cleared his throat, “she said that yellow meant joy. I just wanted to know,” his voice cracked, “why _ you _ chose those flowers.”

“I thought it would be nice to choose flowers that bloomed in May.” For the nth time that week, Peter’s eyes filled with tears and he broke. _ Flowers that bloomed in May. _ He covered his face with his hands and sobbed. Tony moved from his seat to sit next to Peter on his bed and put his good arm around Peter’s shoulders, remembering when he was in Peter’s shoes.

They sat there like that for a long time, a healed man holding together a broken boy.

Tony made a mental note to call the funeral home and tell them that yellow roses were the way to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't love this chapter, but oh well. Again, if y'all think of any ways I can improve this story or my writing in general, leave a comment. Thank you all for reading!
> 
> Title is from "Amanda" by Johnnyswim.


	3. hurt today here tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked how this chapter turned out! I hope you all enjoy it! Also, I forgot to mention this earlier, but we're not calling it The Blip because I'm not a fan. We're sticking with The Snap here.

The funeral was at eleven o’clock that Saturday. 

Peter didn’t have a suit to wear to the funeral and Tony knew it. He left a nicely pressed black suit and tie on a hanger on Peter’s doorknob.

Peter put on the suit, feeling nothing, remembering that he didn’t know how to tie a tie. He was instantly brought back to when May had tried to help him with his tie for that disastrous homecoming incident. He would look it up online, but he still didn’t have a phone.

He stood in front of the mirror for fifteen minutes, trying in vain to get the knot on the tie to somewhat resemble the knots he had seen on other ties, but his hands were shaking so badly he could hardly tie even the simplest of knots. He settled for leaving the tie loosely draped over his neck. He let out an exasperated noise and heard a soft knock on the door.

“Petey?” Morgan’s gentle voice came through the door, “Mommy told me to come ask you if you’re ready.” He opened the door and kneeled down so he was eye-level with the younger girl. 

“Almost ready, Morgs,” he gave her a weak smile, grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger.

“Okay!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the elevator where Pepper and Tony were waiting. 

They got in the elevator.

Tony gave instructions to FRIDAY to take them to the garage. 

Peter sheepishly admitted that he didn’t know how to tie a tie. 

Tony tied Peter’s tie, making a comment about how he’ll teach him how to tie his own tie later. 

The four of them drove to the church, and, later, the cemetery.

Peter’s legs felt like jelly standing in front of not one, not two, but _four_ headstones. 

He was surrounded by yellow roses, but joy was the last thing that Peter felt. 

Peter felt nothing. Peter felt empty.

That day, after the funeral, Tony and Pepper didn’t let Peter retreat into his room. Most of his day was spent with Morgan, listening as she read picture books to him.

“Petey?”

“Yeah?”

“Daddy really missed you when you were gone,” she stated. “He always told me stories about you and your picture was on a special shelf in the kitchen. The one with _ Nonna _ and _ Nonno_. Maybe you can put a special picture of your auntie up there too.”

Peter was silent.

“I’m really happy you’re home, Petey.” Morgan looked up at him with a smile.

“Me too, Morgs.” Despite saying this, Peter wasn’t so sure. Every moment since he found out he’d spent waiting to wake up from this nightmare. 

He hadn’t really realized what Morgan had said until much later, when he was lying awake in bed waiting for the solace of sleep. _ Tony told Morgan stories about me? _ He lay awake for hours, not unlike every other night since the Snap, trying to justify why Tony would be telling stories about him to Morgan. Sleep never came.  
  


That next morning, Peter lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, hunger biting at his stomach. During the night he had explored the room a little more than he had before. It helped him keep his mind off of his life, if only for a little while.

The room was easily as big as his old apartment in Queens. A fleeting thought asked Peter what had been done with the place when him and May were dusted but he pushed it away. 

This was his life now. Thinking about the past wouldn’t help anything. 

There were Star Wars posters on the walls. Really cool ones, too. Collectors editions and all that. _ Ned would freak out if he saw these. _ Ned. Questions flooded Peter’s mind when he remembered his best friend. 

_ Where is he? Did he get dusted? Are we still be best friends if he wasn’t dusted? _

And then he remembered MJ. The same questions he had wondered about Ned raced to ask about her. 

Peter’s life will never be the same. He realized that. And yet, it still surprises him when it turns out to be different. 

He moves on, not able to bring himself to care anymore. It was all too much.

On the desk, there was a new StarkPhone and laptop. Five years ago, Peter would have been ecstatic, but now he just brushed his fingertips over the cool metallic exterior of the laptop, not even turning it on. 

Across from his desk was the bed and dresser.

He appreciated all of the new stuff, but he didn’t want it. He didn’t want any of it. He wanted his old stuff. He wanted his old apartment in Queens. He wanted May. 

The ache in his chest remained. Peter didn’t know if it would ever leave. 

He opened up a drawer in the dresser to reveal brand-new clothes. 

They were nice, but they weren’t _ him_. They weren’t _ his_. There wasn’t a single science pun t-shirt in sight.

He leaned over the open drawer and took in a deep breath through his nose, the thought that May and Pepper might not use the same detergent never occurring to him. 

The putrid scent almost knocked him over. _ Lavender_. Yet another thing that was not home to Peter. 

Ever since the spider bite, Peter couldn’t stand certain smells. Peppermint. Citris. Lavender. 

He felt something rising up in him. How could they do this to him? He’d thought it was common knowledge that spiders couldn’t handle lavender. So why did they use lavender detergent?

It was irrational. Peter knew that. But he was homesick. Not just for his old apartment, but for his old _ life_. He missed his apartment, sure, and his stuff. But what he really missed was his friends and _ May_. 

He laid back down on his bed, not bothering to turn off his lamp, letting that feeling ferment inside him, waiting for the morning that seemed like it would never come.  
  


School was starting again on Tuesday. Tony brought it up at breakfast on Sunday. He’d practically had to drag Peter out of his melancholy to eat. Tony knew he was grieving, but he was worried that Peter would starve himself without even knowing it.

The four of them sat at the table, listening to Morgan babble on about whatever was on her mind. After they were finished, Tony pulled Peter aside and told him.

Tony and Peter sat down on the couch. “Hey, Pete,” Tony folded his hands clumsily. The vibranium sleeve came off the day before, but he was still working on rehabilitating the muscles. “Your school called. They’re starting back up on Tuesday.” Peter’s eyes widened. 

“Tuesday?”

“Yes, but if you’re not ready to go back, that’s completely understandable.”

Peter nodded, “Okay.” His stomach flipped as he stood and turned, walking back to his room.

He stopped and turned around, “What happened to mine and May’s stuff when we were dusted?”

Tony was taken aback by this question. He knew it was coming, but he didn’t expect it so soon. “I held on to most of it. Do you want to go through it?”

“If I could.” Peter put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “I just, uh, miss my old t-shirts.” Tony gave a small laugh and Peter looked up, alarmed. “Don’t get me wrong, all of the new stuff is great, it’s just,” he paused.

“No worries kid. You miss your stuff, that’s completely understandable.” Tony smiled, “Let me know when you’re ready to go through it. I kept all of your stuff on one of the floors here at the Tower. But, if your t-shirts are all you want, I could just run down there and grab them for you, and you can sort through all the rest of the stuff on your own time.”

“No. I kinda need to do this now," he said as Pepper walked in, refilled mug of coffee in hand, sitting next to Tony on the couch.

“Whatever you need to do, we support you,” Tony took Pepper’s hand. 

“Just let us know what to do.” Pepper finished, taking a sip of her coffee. 

Peter thanked them and headed off to his room. _ You can do this. _ He tried to encourage himself, but it just ends up making him feel even more pathetic.   
  


Later that day, Tony and Peter headed down to the floor that served as a storage unit for the Starks. It was filled many of Tony’s old inventions, as well as boxes filled with stuff he just didn’t need anymore. 

A room in the back was dedicated to the Parker’s things. When Tony found out that May had been dusted too, he set this room aside to keep all of their stuff. Pepper had looked at him like he was delusional, but there was always something inside Tony that knew he had to get Peter back. 

Tony led the way back, opening the door to the Parker’s room. He’d often stood there, in that room, going through Peter’s things. Not in a weird way, but to feel closer to Peter. 

Tony remembered the first time that he’d stood in that room. He’d had movers put all of the boxes from the Queens apartment in that room to keep it all together. 

Which was ironic, because that’s where Tony would go to fall apart. 

A month after he’d returned from Titan, Pepper told him she was pregnant. It should have been the happiest day of his life. The day when he knew he would be a father. 

Of course, he matched Pepper’s excitement on the outside, but the raw sadness he felt on the inside gnawed through its cage, fighting to the surface.

That night, after Pepper went to bed, Tony wandered around the Tower, empty. His meandering led him to that room.

Peeking through the flaps of one of the boxes was a photo of Tony and Peter, holding up bunny-ears behind the other’s head while Peter received his SI internship certificate.

Tony reached for it, sitting in the middle of the floor, staring at this photo. 

He didn’t know he was crying until he could no longer see the framed photo in his hands. 

He brought it closer to his body, hugging the frame, and _ let go_, sobbing until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He spent that night on the floor of that room, hugging the photo and yearning for more time with his first child. 

“Everything in this room belongs to you, kid.” Peter nodded, face not showing any of the emotions Tony was sure he was feeling. 

Peter opened the flaps to the first box he saw. His resolve to go through his old stuff crumbled when he saw what was in the box.

May’s favorite polka-dotted scrubs. They still smelled like her, even after all this time. He couldn’t handle it.

He stood there, staring into the box, not touching it. He shook his head and took a couple steps back.

“I’m sorry, I- I thought I could do this, but I can’t, I just c--”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to.”

Peter felt tears welling up in his eyes and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. _ No, _ he thought, _ no more tears. You’re done crying. _ He nodded and walked out of the room to the elevator, Tony walking in a moment later with a cardboard box under his arm. They rode back up to the penthouse in silence.

“I’m sorry.” Peter said when they reached the top, keeping his eyes on the floor, “I saw her old scrubs, and I just,” he paused, “couldn’t.”

Tony handed him the box of his clothes. “No more apologizing. I didn’t go through my parents old stuff for ten years. And when I did, it was extremely difficult to do.” Peter looked up.

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Mi- Tony.” Peter caught himself again. It still didn't feel normal, the name. But then again, would anything feel normal ever again?

He walked back to his room, setting the box down on the ground.

He lifted the flaps slowly, as if the shirts would jump out of the box if they had the chance. 

His favorite t-shirt was on top. He won it at the science fair when he was a freshman. He lifted it from the box and brought it to his face, breathing in the blissful familiarity. 

He took another breath, and suddenly he was back in his old apartment in Queens.

That morning had been crazy. Peter’s science project had been the web fluid in his web shooters. He was careful not to actually replicate the formula, but worked hard to get it just close enough that it functioned almost exactly as well.

May made chocolate chip pancakes for him that morning. He woke up at four o’clock that morning, so excited for the fair. He’d been preparing for this for six months, and he was proud of the work he’d done, not only for the project, but also as the masked vigilante protecting Queens. 

At around six-thirty, he got dressed and went out to eat dressed. May, already dressed in her favorite polka-dotted scrubs was standing in front of the stove, flipping a pancake.

She was never the best cook, but pancakes were her specialty, the one thing she never messed up.

Peter piled his plate high with fluffy, buttery pancakes, pouring maple syrup over the stack and digging in.

It tasted like home.

It tasted like happiness. 

May kissed his forehead as she grabbed her purse, “I’m pulling a double today, but what do you think of grabbing some midnight pho when I get back?”

Peter had mumbled something incomprehensible in the affirmative, continuing to stuff his mouth with pancakes. 

He always ate a big breakfast before an important event. A full stomach helped him focus. 

“Good luck sweetie!” May called, walking out of the door and closing it behind her. 

Peter left the apartment about fifteen minutes later. He was not going to miss the train today. On a bad day, the train took about an hour to get from Queens to Midtown, and he couldn’t risk it. 

The stakes were just too high. If he was late, he couldn’t present his project, and Peter was sure that he would win first prize so long as he was there.

Peter arrived at school with ten minutes to spare, setting up his posterboard and demonstrations. He was ready.

There were rumors that a certain genius/billionaire/playboy/philanthropist might show up to check out the projects of the future scientists of America, but Peter wasn’t counting on it. Sure, he was a huge fan of Iron Man, and had been to nearly every Stark Expo that he was able to attend, but he wasn’t getting his hopes up only to be let down. After all, a man like Tony Stark would have much more important things to do and pressing matters to attend to than attend a high school science fair, right?

Right?

All the students left their projects at the school overnight to be judged. Peter was confident that he’d placed. Most of the other experiments were overdone and tired, drawing conclusions that had already been drawn a million times before. 

May got home at around eleven-thirty that night, tired from her sixteen-hour shift, but filled with pride for Peter. They went out for celebratory pho that night, to a place about ten minutes away from their apartment. They’d laughed at the childish simplicity of many of his classmate’s projects and funny things that patients had said at the hospital where May worked.

That was a good night.  
  


Peter fell asleep like that, even though it was only midmorning, filled with warmth and contentment and nostalgia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Peter! I say this but, in reality, there's nobody I love to whump more than him haha. Also, I've never experienced loss like this in my life, so I apologize if I'm not really getting the grieving process right. I'm Trying My Best. But let me know if you have suggestions for me!
> 
> Title is from "Let it Matter" by Johnnyswim.


	4. i lust for all those memories (but ashes fell to ashes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this new chapter everyone!

On Monday night, Peter put everything he needed in his new backpack. Since he left his old one on the bus, it wasn’t with the Parker’s stuff that Tony put into storage.

Peter also set up his new phone and laptop.

He didn’t really want to, but he made himself because he knew that Ned and MJ would probably want his new number. 

If they were dusted.

If they _ survived _ being dusted. 

Peter didn’t want to think about how students that are _ five years younger _ than him would now be in the same grade as him.

All of the logistics of this situation swam in Peter’s head.

If he was technically twenty-one years old, could he buy alcohol? Could he vote?

He put his new graphing calculator in his backpack, along with all of his new notebooks and pens, sliding his laptop in last. 

He set an alarm for seven the next morning. Being closer to Midtown had its perks. So did living with Tony Stark.

Happy would drive him to school in the morning, and it would only take fifteen minutes with traffic. 

Peter should be excited to be back.

But he wasn’t.

All he could think about was how much everything had changed since he’d last been at school. 

How, the last day of school he’d attended, May would have been there for him when he came home from school. 

He hadn’t talked to Ned in almost a month, Peter’s time, longer if Ned hadn’t been dusted. 

Was he still a part of the academic decathlon team?

He plugged his phone in and climbed into bed.

Could he still be Spider-Man?

People would notice if Spider-Man suddenly moved to Manhattan from Queens after five years. 

He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head, sleeping fitfully until his alarm rang out at seven o’clock the next morning.  
  


Since many of the students at Midtown had been dusted, school was only starting on Tuesday for the students who had been dusted. For everyone else, school started on Wednesday. The administration wanted to give the students who had missed five years of their life the opportunity to get reaccustomed to their new lives before throwing them back into the swing of things. 

Peter took a deep breath as he stepped out of the Audi Happy had driven him to school in. Happy was... weirdly nice to Peter now. He’d went from a man who’d almost never picked up Peter’s calls to telling Peter to call him to be picked up if he needed anything. 

_ You can do this_. 

He pushed open the school’s double doors and the first person he saw was the person he needed to see. 

_ Ned_.

They met in the middle of the hallway, pulling each other in for a hug, and Peter felt himself relax for the first time in almost a month in his best friend’s arms. 

They didn’t need words. Sure, they’d have a long conversation later and Ned would definitely freak out that Peter was living with _ the Tony Stark_, but for now, they’d communicated everything that needed to be said.

“Get a room, losers.” MJ called out as she walked by, not even giving the pair a second glance. Peter smiled. _ Some things never change_.

“All returning students please report to the gym.” Principal Morita announced over the intercom. Peter slapped Ned on the back as they started to walk to the gym.

“I bet there’s a ton of new Lego sets for us to put together since it's been five years.” Ned started, and the two forgot their current situations and got lost in pointless conversation. It was exactly what they both needed.   
  


“Welcome back, everyone!” Principal Morita started, speaking to the group of students in front of him. Peter sat silently, not really paying attention. He let himself zone out, seeming to see what was happening through a fishbowl. Like nothing on the outside could affect him.

The trance was broken when everyone around Peter started talking at once. Peter snapped out of it and asked Ned what happened.

“Morita just said that we have to start whatever year we were in all over again now that we’re back.” He looked shocked, like the information that they would have to spend another year in high school hadn’t sunk in quite yet.

A monotone voice rose up from the back, the rest quieting. “Why can’t we just take tests to show that we still know the material and continue on with our lives?”

Peter and Ned turn around to see MJ standing on a chair in the back row of seats, open sketch book in-hand, a half finished drawing of Principal Morita on the page. 

“With some classes, new curriculum prevents that from being possible--” The uproar of students starts again. Morita seemed to choose his next words carefully, “But if your individual teachers allow this, and you can pass the tests, arrangements can be made.”

The students sighed in relief.

“I’m going to need everybody to fill another one of these forms out,” he picked up a stack of papers from his podium and began handing them out to each student, “Even if nothing has changed.”

When Peter got the paper, he was filled with dread. An emergency contact form. He got out a pen from his backpack, and clicked it open, not wanting to write what he knew had to be written. 

Ned had no problem filling his out. The only things that changed were his address and phone number. When he was finished he looked over at Peter’s, just to see how close he was to being done.

Nothing could have prepared him to see the name _ Tony Stark _ scrawled across the top of the paper in Peter’s messy handwriting.

He couldn’t believe it. What had happened? He looked back at his own paper, clicking his pen closed and zipping it back into its pocket in his backpack so Peter wouldn’t catch him staring. 

Peter would tell him if there was something going on, right?

Morita cleared his throat, “So if everyone is finished,” he eyed Flash and his group of friends goofing off in the middle of a row, “I’ll just have Mister Thompson here collect everyone’s papers, and you all can head to your first period class.”

Peter’s stomach filled with dread. He was sitting on the end of the row. He couldn’t exactly hide his paper in the middle of the stack so Flash couldn’t see it. 

When everyone passed their papers to Peter, he put his paper on the bottom of the stack, handing the stack to Flash and never making eye contact. 

Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Flash hadn’t seemed to look at his paper or make any kind of comment to him. He knew that the old Flash would return, but he was just glad that today wasn’t the day for that.

Peter and Ned walked to their first period together, sitting down next to MJ when they got into the classroom.

“Do you want to go to Delmar’s for lunch?” Ned asked Peter. It was a half-day at Midtown Tech, and they got out just after when lunch normally would be. 

“Yeah, sure.” Peter agreed, taking out a new notebook and setting it on the desk. 

“Do you need to text your aunt or anything?” Ned asked, hoping for some kind of admittance from Peter. May never liked Peter to go anywhere without giving her a heads up. Peter was all she had and she couldn’t bear to lose him.

Peter paused. “Yeah, I’ll let her know later.” _ He knows_. Peter thought. Ned normally never prodded like this. The bells signalling the beginning of class brought Peter out of his head.

The teacher rambled an introductory lecture at the students, but Peter couldn’t focus. 

He went through the rest of his classes that day, listening but never hearing anything. 

He knew that he’d have to tell Ned about his current living situation. 

And he knew that Ned would freak out.

And it’s not like living with the Starks was a terrible thing, it’s just-- the situation is-- well, it’s just not something Peter wanted to celebrate.

All Peter wanted was somebody who _ understood_. Ned had never known loss like Peter knew it. And Peter would never want him to.

But, to some degree, Peter wished that he didn’t have to explain that to his best friend.

  
  


Peter shot Happy a quick text saying that he was going out to lunch and that he would ride the train back to the Tower.

When the dismissal bell rang at one-thirty, Peter’s stomach was filled with butterflies. He wanted to tell Ned everything. But he didn’t want to have to _ tell _ him. 

The pair rode a crowded express train to Queens in relative silence. It wasn’t uncommon for New Yorkers to not converse while on public transit, but the silence between Peter and Ned was loaded.

Like it would explode if they weren’t careful. 

The two bought their sandwiches and sat down on the curb outside to eat them.

“So,” Ned started, mouth full, “What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know. Not much I guess,” Peter lied, “What about you?”

Ned answered Peter’s question, filling him in on all of the details of his life that he hadn’t gotten to share yet. Him and most of his family had been dusted, but when they all came back, life had returned to some kind of normal. 

“So, how’s May doing?” Ned prodded.

Peter knew this was coming. But nothing could have prepared him.

He cleared his throat. Why did he even ask that? Why did he care?

Peter stood and ran one of his shaking hands through his hair, “Dude, why do you even care? It’s not even your business, okay? So just stay out of it!” Peter blurted out, not even thinking.

Ned stared at him, stunned, full mouth left open mid-chew. He swallowed harshly.

Peter’s hands shook as he realized what he’d just done. “Oh, man, I’m so sorry,” he turned back around to face Ned. His mind screamed at him for blowing up, nagging at him until he could hardly handle it anymore.

He sat back down on the curb again, vision blurring from the tears welling up in his eyes. “She’s gone,” he whispered, barely audible over the traffic noises. A tear dripped off the tip of his nose onto the asphalt below. “She’s gone,” he repeated.

“Peter, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t kno--”

Peter looks up at his best friend, numbness creeping back into his bones, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He took a shaky breath, “It’s just been really hard.”

“Where are you staying right now? You’re not in foster care, are you?” Ned pushed deeper, trying to make Peter open up.

Peter ate the rest of his sandwich, taking a swig from his water bottle before he answered, “Please don’t freak out. Mister Stark took me in.” Ned’s face lit up, “But it’s probably not going to be for long. I-- I think he just feels guilty that he got me involved in the first place.” Peter admitted, looking down at his shoes. 

“Dude,” Ned tried to contain his excitement, “you’re living with _ the _ Tony Stark? That’s crazy!”

“I know, I know,” Peter didn’t know what reaction he was looking for, but this wasn’t it.

“How did it happen? Did you ask to move in with him or what?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Peter took a breath and looked around.

“You could come over to my apartment,” Ned offered, “I have the newest Star Wars video game we could play.”

Peter agreed and the pair started off to Ned’s apartment. Ned’s parents never really liked Peter; he was too much of a bad influence on Ned. Peter hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward.

“Hey, did you hear about the Europe trip that the school’s going on this summer? I heard about it in US History today. I think I’m going.” Ned mentioned, looking over at Peter as they walked.

“I didn’t hear about it. Where are they going?”

“I think Venice, Prague, London, other places too, I just can’t remember which ones right now.”

“May was Italian.” Peter stated. He hadn’t meant to, but it had slipped out. The pair stopped.

Ned nodded. “I remember when I would come over when we were younger, and May and Ben would speak Italian to each other so we couldn’t understand.” He smiled.

Peter chuckled, “I remember that too.” He looked up at the New York sky, “I taught myself a little Italian after that so I could know what they were saying.”

“Do you remember any?”

“A little,” Peter answered, “We should refresh our skills before we go,” Peter smiled at his best friend.

“So you’re coming?”

“I really want to, I just don’t know how I’m going to raise enough money for it.” They started walking again.

“Dude, you live with Tony freaking Stark. You wouldn’t have to raise a dime.”

“I’m already a burden, I don’t want to ask for money on top of that.” Ned hummed. They walked the rest of the way in silence.

  
  


When they got to Ned’s apartment, his parents weren’t home. He fished the newest Star Wars game out of his game drawer and popped the disk into the console.

For the next three hours, Peter and Ned played through the game, enjoying the comfortable familiarity. It was just like nothing had changed.

When they finally beat the game, Peter looked over at Ned, “Do you know what happened to my old backpack?”

Ned stared blankly back at Peter, “What do you mean?”

“When there was that giant spaceship thing, I left my backpack on the bus. What did they do with everyone’s stuff?”

“Um,” Ned paused, “I don’t know, I’ve never thought about that before.”  
  
“Hmm.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you go when you left?”

Peter took a breath and started at the beginning, sparing some of the details. As expected, Ned freaked out. “Aliens? You actually met aliens? And a real wizard? And went to outer space? Man, that’s so cool!”

Peter smiled and Ned’s next question assaulted him. “So where were you when you got dusted?”

He tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like his throat was filling with dust again, and his vision started to black out. He settled for clearing his throat instead. 

“I was on a planet called Titan.” He closed his eyes and paused. “I almost got the gauntlet off,” he whispered, “I was so close. So close. But I didn’t get it. And now here we are.” His breath caught in his throat, “When he snapped, and everyone was dusted, I’m told it was painless for everyone. But with my healing factor,” his voice shook, “it hurt so bad Ned.”

He opened his eyes to see his best friend looking over at him, horrified. “I can still feel it sometimes. When I go to sleep, I can feel myself getting ripped apart over and over again, and it’s like my throat is being filled with ash again and I can’t breathe,” Peter gasped for breath, suddenly feeling like the collar of his shirt was much too tight.

“Peter. Peter? It’s okay! We’re here, in my apartment. You’re safe!” Peter looked at him and nodded, eyes wide, trying to fight back the panic that threatened to collapse him. 

“Right, right, I-I’m sorry.” He apologized, “Sometimes, that just- happens.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah! I’m fine--”

“It kinda sounds like PTSD, Peter.”

“No, I’m fine, really.”

“Maybe therapy could help you. Remember when my sister got mugged?” Peter nodded, “After that, she was afraid to even walk on the street by herself. But after she went to therapy, it got better.”

Peter got up, “Look, I don’t need therapy. Thanks for the concern, but I’m fine.” He looked at the time, “I should probably get going. Thanks, uh, thanks for having me over.” He grabbed his bag and headed out.

Peter rode the train back to the Tower, the whole time one question begged for his attention.

What kind of a hero has PTSD?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. This week was the craziest of my life. Every single second of every single day was spent doing something. Last night I stayed up all night with over 700 (!!!!!) middle schoolers at an event that my church puts on every year. It was insane. So, that to say, I apologize for any mistakes in this chapter, I've been a little busy.  
Thank you all for the support on this work! Every kudos/comment/bookmark makes my day. Y'all are amazing!
> 
> Title from "Closer" by Johnnyswim.


	5. the seeds you've sown are ripe for reaping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you all had a happy and safe Thanksgiving.  
I took a roadtrip this week and decided to watch CA:CW (fun fact! this was the first Marvel movie I ever saw in theaters. Also, Disney+ changed my life.) and I'm worried that I'm not quite getting the characterization right. So, let me know if you all think I could be doing something better with the characters. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm Trying My Best. Enjoy!
> 
> Title from "Pay Dearly" by Johnnyswim.

It had been another sleepless night for Peter. Nightmare after nightmare plagued him, until he just decided to give up on trying to sleep.

He pulled his laptop out of his backpack and studied for his exams. They weren’t for another three weeks, but an exam that determines if you will have to repeat your junior year is not a test that you will procrastinate studying for.

And Peter had seven of those.

So yeah, he was a little stressed.

And stress on top of sleep deprivation did not make for a particularly cheerful Peter.

He looked at the clock. Three-thirty. His head pounded and every time he moved his eyes, his world spun, threatening to topple him. 

Every math question he answered on the computer made his head hurt more. 

His laptop, even on the dimmest setting was too bright. Peter put on a pair of sunglasses to dim the light. He remembered when he first had his powers, how absolutely  _ overwhelming _ everything was, he’d practically had to wear sunglasses everywhere he went. 

Over time, he’d adjusted, but he still got migraines if there was too much input. 

He sighed, the familiar feeling of nausea rising up in his stomach making it impossible to focus on AP Calculus. He closed his eyes, wishing that he could sleep without being woken up by a nightmare thirty minutes later. 

He wanted to scream and squirm and climb out of his skin to escape the pain in his head and neck. But mostly he wanted to sleep. His eyelids had never felt so heavy and he was on the verge of tears from the frustration of the constant nightmares. 

He put his head down on the desk, pressing his forehead against the cool wood.

Maybe he drifted off, or maybe his headache had altered all sense of time, but before Peter knew it, his alarm was ringing. 

Peter could already tell it would not be a good day. 

When he got to school that day, the students were buzzing with excitement over the Europe trip. Peter picked up an information packet at the office but didn’t think that he’d be able to raise enough money in time. Four thousand dollars is a lot of money. 

And he definitely wasn’t about to ask Tony for money. There was no way. 

He walked into his first period class and sat down in his seat, eyes already drooping. The day passed without incident, Peter lethargically attending his classes but not really absorbing much information.

When the bell rang for the last period for the day, Mister Harrington announced that all of the science classes had had a guest lecturer that day.

Peter got out his notebook and uncapped his pen. “Hello, everyone.” Shuri strode into the room. “My name is Shuri, and I am from the African nation of Wakanda.”

_ Shuri’s here? We gotta catch up _ , Peter thought. “Today, I will be teaching you all about vibranium.”

She continued through her planned lecture, settling in on the effects of vibranium technology in the medical field, citing examples of a man healed of paralysis and third-degree burns healed in two-and-a-half weeks through the use of said tech. Peter tried to focus on the lecture through the throbbing in his head, scribbling notes in his notebook, but later opted to just listen to Shuri speak.

When the bell rang at the end of class, Shuri greeted Peter with a high-five. “What’s up, Shuri?”

“Oh, you know,” she gestured to the classroom, “I was invited to speak, and who could say no speaking for seven hours straight to students my age or older?”

Peter laughed, squinting. “How long are you in town for?” The two of them strolled out of the classroom, Shuri grabbing her bag on the way out.. Peter saw Flash out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t expect any problems from him today. Peter hadn’t done anything to provoke hi, so hopefully he was in the clear.

“I fly back home tonight at seven.”

“What would you think of staying for another night? I could show you around NYC a little bit, if you’d be interested in that, and you could stay at my place.” Peter offered, chastising himself a little for calling the Tower ‘his place’. It had just slipped out. He knew that it couldn’t be ‘his place’ for much longer.

“I would like that! Give me your phone number and text me your address.” Shuri handed her phone to Peter and he put his number in. 

“Or, you could just put it into the Maps app,” Flash interjected, “You see, Penis here, claims to live with Tony Stark in the Avengers Tower.” He turns to Peter, “What, did your Aunt May sell you to Stark for a little extra cash?”

Peter’s cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “No,” he whispered, almost in shock, as they approached the stairs at the entrance of the school.

“I’m glad she finally recognized your worth, Penis.” He moved to push Peter down the stairs, but Peter caught himself. Usually he’d hide his fast reflexes and strength from his classmates, but today he was not having it. 

He whipped around and rammed his fist into Flash’s face, feeling his nose  _ crunch  _ under the force of Peter’s fist.

“Oooh! He need some milk!” he heard Shuri call out as she was being pulled away from the scene by security officers.

Before he knew it, he was being pulled back by a police officer stationed at the school and taken to the office.

Peter stared at his shoes. He’d messed up. He’d messed up bad. It had been twenty minutes since he’d sat down on that chair and Morita called him into his office.

Now, he heard the main doors to the school  _ whoosh _ open and the voice of one genius/playboy/billionaire/philanthropist carried through the halls.

“Listen, I know Peter, and I know he wouldn’t do something like this unprovoked.”

Peter’s phone buzzed with a new notification.

He looked down, a video attachment from Ned showed his and Flash’s conversation before Peter threw the punch. 

“Hey, kiddo, what happened?” Tony sat in a chair next to Peter. Peter shrugged and rubbed his head.

“‘M sorry,” Peter apologized, head pounding so hard he was sure that his whole head was visibly shaking. As Principal Morita sat down at his desk, Peter pulled out his phone and sent the attachment to Tony.

“Hello, Mister Stark, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I just wish it were under better circumstances.” He reached out to shake Tony’s hand. 

“Me too,” he shook the man’s hand, and reseated himself next to Peter.

“Now,” Morita sat down, “as I’m sure you’ve heard by now, Peter was involved in a fight today and broke another student’s nose.” Tony’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out to check the message. It was bad social etiquette, yes, but that was just one of the downfalls of owning a billion-dollar company.

“Pete, what’s this?” he looked over at Peter, who had resumed his position looking at the floor, jaw clenched. 

Tony opened the video, and upon seeing what it was, set his phone on the desk to project a hologram of the event into the space between Tony and Morita.

_ ‘- glad she finally recognized your worth, Penis.’  _ and the sickening crunch that followed played through the speakers in Tony’s phone. Tony grimaced as he closed the video and tucked his phone back in his pocket. 

“I think you and I both saw that Peter was not the one who initiated that fight.” Morita nodded and hummed. “I mean, the kid tried to push Pete down the stairs! I’d call what Pete did self-defense.”

“I would agree with you. Since I now see that Peter did not start that fight, I can knock some time off of his suspension. However, the best I can do for you is one day of suspension. I assure you, Mister Thompson will receive a longer suspension.”

“We’ll take it.” Tony stood up, buttoning his jacket and pulling Peter up as well. “Thank you very much, Principal Morita. It was a pleasure to meet you.” They shook hands one more time for good measure. “C’mon, Pete, let’s get outta here.”

When the pair got to Tony’s car, they sat in silence for a moment, Tony not even turning the flashy Audi on. 

Flash’s words swam in Peter’s mind. Maybe that really was all he was good for. Just a little extra cash. Man, his head hurt. All Peter wanted to do was curl up in a ball and scream. Tony’s voice broke through to Peter.

“Can you explain to me what just happened in there?” He turned to Peter, voice curt. 

Peter cleared his throat, “Flash tried to push me down the stairs.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, I know  _ that _ . Who was he talking about? He said ‘she’ in the video. Who was ‘she’?”

Peter’s lip quivered and he took a deep breath, “May.” he whispered. “He said that she sold me to you for a little cash.” he admitted, cheeks red. 

Tony turned so he was facing forward, buckling his seatbelt and started the car. “Buckle up.” he ordered. He put the car into drive, and gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, turning as he peeled out of the school parking lot. 

Peter’s phone buzzed again and he pulled it out to check the text. It was from Shuri,  _ ‘I was invited to speak at a convention at the end of the week here in NY, so it looks like I’ll be here until Saturday. Let me know if you want to show me around:)’ _ It buzzed again and another blue bubble popped up underneath the first one,  _ ‘By the way, are you alright? What that kid said was not cool and definitely not true.’ _

Peter smiled. She was a good friend, even if they hadn’t known each other for very long. 

As Tony drove on, they both relaxed a little bit. “I’m really sorry, Pete.” Peter looked over at Tony, confused. He thought he was in trouble. “It’s not true, you got that? Your aunt loved you very much.”

Peter nodded, sitting on his hands. It was quiet for a minute. “So,” Peter started, “I guess people know now. That I live with you, I mean.”

Tony nodded. “I guess they do.” Silence ensued.

“Do you want to get ice cream?” 

Peter shrugged. “Sure.”

Tony pulled into the nearest ice cream shop he saw and turned off the car.

Peter opened the door and tried to step out of the car, his stomach flipping at the sudden movement, vision blacking out for a moment. The sudden light from the outside world pushed him back into the car. Most of the pain had settled in behind his left eye and the pressure in his head made him feel like screaming.

Tony rushed over to the open car door, kneeling next to Peter, “You alright?”

Peter nodded again, swallowing the bile that had risen up in his throat, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” He put a hand on Peter’s forehead and Peter leaned into Tony’s cool touch. “You’re a little warm, does anything hurt?” His face creased with concern.

“Head hurts,” Peter took a shaky breath, “a lot.” Tony hummed in acknowledgment.

“Like a migraine?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Peter shrugged, eyes squinting.

“How about we postpone this ice cream and get you home to rest?” Peter nodded, leaning back in his seat. As Tony closed the car door, Peter saw a flash of light of the corner of his eye. Like a camera flash.  _ Don’t be stupid, it was probably just the sun reflecting off of a car.  _ Peter justified.

Tony climbed in the other side, grabbing a pill bottle from the door and dropping four white pills into his palm, extending them to Peter. “This is Excedrin. A normal person would take two at the most, but for you, I think four would help a little until we get back to the Tower.”

Peter accepted the pills and washed them down with a swig of water. Tony handed him a pair of sunglasses and said, “I used to get migraines too. They suck, but over time you learn how to deal.” He started driving again and Peter pressed his head back on the headrest and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the throbbing would subside soon. 

When they arrived back at the Tower, Tony pulled into the garage and helped Peter out of the car and to the elevator. The Excedrin and sunglasses had helped, but not much.

FRIDAY took the pair up to the penthouse and Peter lethargically walked to his bedroom, kicking off his shoes before he crawled under the comforter. Tony walked in with a glass of water and set it on Peter’s nightstand. “Try to get some sleep, kiddo. Holler if you need anything.” He walked out of the room, turning off the lights and closing the door behind him. 

Despite Peter’s sheer exhaustion, the insomnia returned. He lay in the dark, listening in on snippets of Tony and Pepper’s conversation.

“So what do we do now?” Tony looked at Pepper.

“The photos have already been posted online. It’s everywhere. They’re saying that he’s your illegitimate child, Tony.” She showed him the article pulled up on her StarkPad. “I don’t think I need to say this, but it’s not great for PR.” Pepper asserted. 

“Well, what can we do? I think we just take it and run with it.” Tony suggested, taking a sip of his water. 

“I’m completely on board with that,” Pepper said, “but people will still talk.”

“So we’ll-”

The elevator dinged, interrupting their conversation and Rhodey marched in, phone in-hand. “What is this, Tones?” The same article Pepper had showed him was open on Rhodey’s phone. A clear photo of Tony kneeling down next to an open car door with his hand on Peter’s forehead begged for his attention. 

“The kid had a migraine,” Tony threw his hands up in the air, walking to the fridge to refill his water glass, “and now the press is having a field day.” He sighed, “What was I supposed to do?”

“I thought you didn’t want this to get out before...” he trailed off, making eye contact with Pepper and Tony. They’d told him about their plans to adopt Peter and he’d supported the idea.

“It’s a little too late now,” Pepper said. “We could tell him tomorrow?” She looked at Tony, “You said he’s suspended tomorrow, right? We’ll have all day.”

Tony nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’m honestly surprised Morgan hasn’t said anything yet.” He chuckled. They all knew that Morgan couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

Pepper smiled. “So, tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow.” Tony agreed.

Peter rolled over in bed.  _ They’re going to kick me out tomorrow. _ He tried to mentally prepare himself for foster care. Or, maybe Ned’s parents would let him move in with them, just until he turned eighteen. 

He heard his phone receive a new notification and he opened his phone, turning down the brightness almost all the way before he fully opened his eyes. 

Three texts from Ned, and two from an unknown number. He opened those first, making a mental note to reply to Ned’s in the morning. 

_ ‘Nice job on breaking Flash’s nose. That was pretty cool. Decathlon practice on Wednesday after school.’ _ followed by,  _ ‘This is MJ, by the way.’ _

Peter turned his phone off and closed his eyes, head hurting too much for him to care about much else. He would deal with the rest tomorrow. He drifted off into a fitful sleep, dreams of May still plaguing him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this week I started reading this new fic that was just posted a little while ago and I'm a lil worried because the premis is similar to where I'm going with this fic. I'm worried that people will think that I ripped the idea off that fic, but the reality is that this fic was grown organically. I started reading fics about three months ago, and I would think about the things I would have changed in a fic if I were the author, and one day it clicked; if I want to see all these things in a fic, I have to write it myself. I don't want to tag which one it is quite yet because I don't want the end of this story to be spoiled, but I will give the name and author at the end. Also, it's a lot better written than this one could ever be and I'm worried that I won't do the idea justice.  
Anyway, sorry for such long notes today, I guess I just have a lot on my mind.  
Thank you all for reading/kudos-ing/bookmarking. Y'all are the absolute best!


	6. when your heart became my home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturday, so you know what that means: another chapter on this fic! Fun fact! This chapter was not on my outline, but I was feeling nostalgic about NYC and this 3600+ word monstrosity just flowed from my fingers. Enjoy!
> 
> Title from "Make" by Johnnyswim.

Peter woke up the next morning to his alarm ringing, early enough to be for a school morning, but it was not a school morning.

Peter had never been suspended before, and he had always had an unhealthy fear of getting in trouble. 

What could he say? He was a people-pleaser. 

He groaned and rolled over in bed to turn off his alarm, memories of the day before hitting him full-force.

Fistfight. Migraine. Suspension. Foster care.

The last thought echoed in Peter’s brain.

Foster care. 

He got out of bed and started stuffing his clothes into his backpack. _ There’s no way I’m going into foster care. I’m almost eighteen, I’ll get a job and support myself _. 

Peter hesitated when he saw his suit hanging in the closet. He hadn’t even thought of going out as Spider-Man since everything happened, and, honestly, the thought of it didn’t interest him much anymore.

Not that he didn’t miss the way the air rushed past him as he practically flew through the air, cooling him on a humid summer day.

Not that he didn't want to stand up for the little guy anymore. 

Okay, maybe he did miss it a little bit. It just wasn’t too high on his list of priorities. 

“FRIDAY?” Peter asked, “Could you please tell Mister Stark that I said ‘thank you for everything’,”

“Of course, Peter. Is there anything else you would like me to communicate to Boss?” FRIDAY responded.

“Um, yeah. Tell him that I’m sorry for being a burden, and that I’ll pay him back for everything I’m taking.” He looked down at his backpack and sighed. “Thanks, FRI.”

“You’re welcome, Peter.”

He got dressed and shrugged on his backpack, pulling out his phone to shoot Shuri a quick text telling her to meet him outside of the new World Trade Center. 

He quietly exited the penthouse, being sure not to wake the Starks, having FRIDAY take him down to the first floor. Walking out of the Tower, Peter was glad that he wouldn’t be a burden to Tony anymore. 

He put on a pair of sunglasses and pulled out his wallet, using a little of the little money he had to buy a couple bagels with cream cheese for breakfast. He’d look for a job today, while showing Shuri around. Some place has _ got _ to be hiring, right?

Tony woke up later than normal. Peter didn’t need to be taken to school or anything. Tony yawned, blinking the world into focus.

As usual, Pepper was already up and hard at work being the CEO of SI. Man, he adored her. 

He heard the knob on the door twist and the door open, revealing a pajama-clad Morgan standing in the doorway. “Time to wake up, Daddy!” She padded over to the side of the bed, taking his hand and pulling him out of bed, “What should we have for breakfast?”

“I don’t know, Morguna. Why don’t you go wake Peter up and you two can decide what you want for breakfast,”

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted, “Peter wanted me to tell you that he is grateful for everything that you have done for him and he apologizes for being a burden.”

Dumbfounded, all Tony could manage was a feeble, “What?”

“Would you like me to repeat the message?” FRIDAY quipped, a hint of sass behind her automated voice. 

Sometimes he hated how much of himself he puts into his projects. “Where is he?”

“Peter is not in the Tower.”

“So where is he?” Tony asked again, beginning to get aggravated.

“Daddy?” Morgan’s small voice asked, “Where’s Petey?”

“FRIDAY,” Tony’s voice held a warning.

“Peter Parker is not in the Tower.” She repeated. “Would you like me to call him?”

“Yes!” Morgan answered, clearly as annoyed with the AI as her father was. The call was disconnected before it even rang once.

“It appears that Peter’s phone has been turned off,” FRIDAY supposed, “But he packed his suit, and the tracker you embedded in it has not been disabled.”

“Send me the coordinates.” He turned to his daughter, “Go get changed. We’re going out for breakfast today.”

“Shuri!” Peter waved, being careful not to disturb the solemnity of the 9/11 memorials behind them. 

“Peter, hi! How are you?” She greeted him with a hug. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? I’m starving!”

“There’s tons of options here, what are you hungry for?” They turned, walking into the ribbed building. “I think there might be a Starbucks here. Have you ever had Starbucks?”

Shuri burst out laughing, “I’ve had Starbucks! I’m not a savage!”

They walked down to the coffeeshop together, making small talk, getting in line, somehow missing most of the morning rush. “So, what happened after I left yesterday?” Peter looked at her. So much had happened yesterday, what did she want him to say? “With the fight, I mean,” she clarified. 

“I got suspended,” Peter shrugged, but on the inside he was panicking. He’d never been suspended before and this whole experience was new. “I think Flash did too. I shouldn’t have punched him,” Peter put his hands in his pockets, looking down at his shoes, “I just snapped.”

“I was proud of you for doing that! That guy seemed like a jerk. Who does he think he is?”

Peter shrugged, Flash’s words still echoing in his mind as the pair walked to the front of the line, the barista asking what they wanted to eat. Peter pulled out his wallet to see how much cash he had left. Twenty-five dollars. That wouldn’t get him far.

“No worries, Peter. I’m paying.” Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Shuri immediately shut him down. 

“I’ll pay you back,” Peter offered, but Shuri gave him a look that told him it wasn’t up for discussion. 

“Two egg and cheddar breakfast sandwiches for him and a chocolate croissant for me,” she said, looking up at the overhead menu, “and two grande iced caramel macchiatos.” She turned to Peter, who shrugged.

“I’ve never had one.” He admitted. She hovered her phone over the chip reader, the transaction going through immediately. They walked over to a table to wait for their breakfasts to be ready. 

“Thanks, Shuri.” Peter said, the appreciation quickly being shot down.

“Stop it! You’re my guide today. In fact, I’m underpaying you. Today is ‘Treat Yo Self’ twenty-twenty-three, baby!” She said as the barista called out her name. 

Peter stared at the drink, not sure what to do. “What are you doing?” Shuri asked, laughing, “Having a staring contest with a beverage? I think that is a first.” she retorted. 

“I’ve never had coffee before,” Peter said, “I just haven’t really needed the caffeine that much.”

“So this is your first sip of a coffee drink?” Shuri asked, pulling out her phone to film the momentous moment, positioning the camera to capture the reaction.

Peter took a sip. The sweet notes of the caramel drizzle harmonized perfectly with the darker notes of the espresso. “It’s good!” he announced, practically vibrating from even the small amount of caffeine, going in for another sip and ignoring the bitter aftertaste of the espresso. Shuri smiled, saving the video to her phone and eating the rest of her breakfast. 

When they were finished, Shuri asked, “So what are you going to do now? I saw the Bugle article last night.”

“The what?” Peter asked, taking a sip of water. Article? On the Bugle? The Bugle was always trying to make Spiderman look bad, but Peter hadn’t been out on patrol in, well, in over five years.

“You haven’t seen it? I thought that was why you are still wearing sunglasses.” Shuri pointed out. Peter didn’t even realize that he was still wearing them. When he moved to take them off, Shuri stopped him, “I think it would be best that you leave those on,” she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and pulling up the article, and handed it to Peter. 

He stared at the screen, jaw practically on the floor, “I’m not his ki-”

“I know. But the media loves this stuff.” They paused for a moment.

“They’re getting rid of me.” Peter said, voice barely over a whisper. “They didn’t want the bad publicity so they’re sending me to a foster home.”  
  
“That’s not true,”

“It is, and the sooner I accept it, the better.” Peter snapped, handing the phone back to Shuri. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. I just don’t want to think about that right now. Let’s go have a fun day and not worry about tomorrow, okay?” Shuri nodded, tucking her phone back away. “What do you think about walking across the Brooklyn Bridge?”

“Sounds fun.” Shuri said, trying not to let her concern get in the way of them having a good time. She could worry about Peter when the day was over. 

Tony pulled into a Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru for breakfast. If there ever was a day to load up on caffeine this was it. The media had taken the illegitimate child story and _ ran _ with it. The press was having a field day and everyone was talking. 

He ordered a strawberry jelly-filled donut for Morgan and a cold brew for himself.

“Hey, FRI, call Pepper.” He demanded, pulling out of the drive-thru.

“Calling Pepper Potts,” FRIDAY answered, followed by ringing.

She picked up on the third ring, “Tony, I’m in a very important meeting, so this better be important, and not just to tell me that you and Morgan went to Dunkin’ Donuts for breakfast.” Morgan giggled in the backseat.

“Actually, we did go to Dunkin’, but that’s not what I called you for. Peter decided that this would be the perfect day to go out on the town.” Tony said, voice laced with sarcasm that he hoped Morgan couldn’t pick up.

Pepper sighed. “Where is he?” 

Tony checked the self-updating GPS screen, “Looks like he’s crossing the Brooklyn Bridge right now.”

“Okay. Can you handle this? I’ll be out of my meeting in an hour and can take the rest of the day off.”

“Yep, we got this under control, right Morguna?” She nodded, mouth full of strawberry donut, “We just wanted to let you know what was going on. Love you Pep,”

“I love you, Mommy!” Morgan called out through her full mouth.

Pepper chuckled, “Love you too. Talk to you soon.” and the call disconnected. 

Traffic slowed to a stop. Rush hour. This was one part of the city that he would never miss if he moved away.

At least it would give Peter some time to cross the bridge so Tony and Morgan wouldn’t have to deal with following him across. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. It was going to be a long day. **  
**

The photo in the article stuck with Peter as him and Shuri followed the crowd walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. He was sure that the flash he’d seen was the sun glinting off a car. But it wasn’t. And now the world knew that he was living with the Starks.

Vendors on the sides of the boardwalk screamed for attention, selling sunglasses and printed photos of the bridge. He knew that none of them were really looking at him, but now he was paranoid. Any one of them could be a photographer or journalist looking to get the latest scoop. They’d want to know why he wasn’t in school. They’d want to know where Tony is. They’d want to know things Peter couldn’t answer. 

Shuri pulled him along, the world seemed to be in slow motion, needing to be viewed through a fisheye lense. 

They crossed the bridge and back in an hour-and-a-half, stopping to take pictures and buy souvenirs for Shuri and her family back in Wakanda.

By the time they got back to where they started, Peter’s stomach was already starting to grumble, even though they’d eaten two hours ago. “So what do you want to do next?” Peter asked, hoping she’d say lunch.

“I don’t know, you are the guide here.” she threw back.

“We could do Chinatown next.” Peter suggested, “There’s lots of touristy shops and good restaurants.”

“That sounds like fun!” she said, “Lead the way.” As they walked to Chinatown, comfortable silence fell over the pair. It was a silence that they didn’t feel the need to fill. A silence of familiarity that only happens between close friends. Peter enjoyed every moment of it.

When they got to Chinatown, Shuri stopped in a couple of the shops along the street, not really looking for anything in particular, just window shopping. She glanced at the watch on her wrist and looked up at Peter. “I’m kind of hungry. Do you know of any good places to eat here?” Peter silently rejoiced.

“I’m glad you asked. I know of this place with the _ best _ soup dumplings. Let’s go!”

Tony glanced at the tracker on the screen, on the move again. Traffic had taken longer than he’d expected it to and he hadn’t made it in time to catch Peter at the entrance to the bridge. He pulled into the nearest parking spot he could find, figuring that it might just be easier to catch up to Peter on foot than drive around all day after him.

Plus, if FRIDAY played “Baby Shark” from Morgan’s playlist one more time, Tony thought he might implode.

He put on a baseball cap and sunglasses, hoping that the simple disguise would be enough to hide him from all of the tourists milling about outside. He sent the coordinates of Peter’s suit to his phone and got out of the car, walking around to open the door for Morgan. “Ready sweetheart?” he unbuckled her seatbelt and helped her out of the car, “Let’s go find Petey.”

Peter and Shuri sat down at a table in the crowded restaurant. “I know it’s called ‘Spicy Village’, but not everything is spicy.”

“I can handle spice, colonizer,” Shuri quipped.

Peter acted offended. “I can totally handle spice,” Peter lied, “I’m just saying, in case you didn’t want something spicy.” When the waiter came by, Peter ordered soup dumplings and Shuri ordered a pork pancake, the pair quiet after that, listening to the bumbling hum of a busy restaurant.

“Do you have good Chinese food in Wakanda?” Peter asked and the waiter returned with their food, the two of them digging in with chopsticks. 

“Not really. Since we kind of hid from the rest of the world until recently, we don’t have many different food options. It is all super good, but it is all Wakandan.” As Peter began to finish his food, he realized that the gnawing feeling in his stomach wasn’t all hunger. 

Some of it was dread. He dreaded the end of the day. That was it. The time when he would have to fend for himself for the first time, learn how to take care of himself. He’d thought about calling Ned to have a place to stay for a couple nights, but they hadn’t talked since Peter snapped at him about not having PTSD. He wasn’t exactly sure that a call asking to couchsurf for a couple nights would be what their friendship needed. 

Peter took a sip of his water, forcefully trying to rid his throat of the lump that had made its home there so often recently. He noticed one of the waiters walking around to the other tables and telling them something apologetically. Many of them started to clear out of the restaurant, not even finishing their lunch.

“What’s going o-” Peter recognized the voice that was entering the restaurant with one of the waiters and his stomach dropped.

“Thank you for doing this. Makes my life a little easier.” Tony walks in, holding Morgan’s hand, cash in his other hand. The waiter took the cash and Tony and Morgan sat down next to Peter and Shuri. 

“Well hey guys, didn’t expect to see you two out here!” Tony said, sarcasm evident in his voice.

Sensing an awkward moment, Shuri cleared her throat and stood up. “Today was really fun, but I think I am just going to call an Uber to take me back to my hotel. Thanks for showing me around the city a little bit.” She smiled, “I will talk to you later.” She turned to walk out of the restaurant, “Good to see you again, Mister Stark,” she called out as she pushed the door open and walked out. 

Peter looked down at his empty bowl. “Can I get noodles?” Morgan’s sweet voice peeped up.

“Of course you can, Morguna.” The waiter standing in the back made a note of the request to pass on to the chef. 

Silence.

Tony’s glare bore into Peter, making the kid feel exposed and tired and lonely and embarrassed. “What were you thinking?” he hissed.

Peter’s vision blurred and he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. He’d been doing that a lot recently. _ No more tears _ . “I’m sorry.” Peter whispered, every muscle in his body tensed. _ This is it. He’s going to kick you out now and there’s nothing you can do _, the voice inside Peter’s head offered.

“You could have gotten hurt or lost or,” Tony paused, “or worse.” Tony had heard of the children of important people being kidnapped for ransom, and the thought of it made Tony shudder. “You had me worried sick, Pete. Why did you leave?”

Peter looked up, quickly wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from his eye and shrugged.

“What do you mean-” he imitated Peter’s shrug. Peter looked down at his bowl again, not wanting to hear what Tony was about to say. “Hey, kid. Look at me.” Peter looked up. “Why did you leave?”

“I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.” Peter murmured. Hearing this made Tony want to laugh. _ Overstay his welcome? _ He opened his mouth to say something, but the door jingled and in strode Pepper. 

“Pete,” he started, Pepper having a seat next to him, “What made you think you were overstaying your welcome?” Peter felt his cheeks and ears grow hot and he shrugged again, not wanting to burst into tears.

“Peter, honey,” Pepper put a hand on Peter’s shoulder, “You could never overstay your welcome.” Her voice made Peter want to cry even more. The waiter brought out Morgan’s noodles, and quickly exited, trying not to intrude on the moment. Morgan dug into the noodles, expertly using chopsticks to scoop the noodles into her mouth. 

Peter took a shaky breath, and looked across the table at Tony and Pepper. “I heard you guys talking last night. I wanted to leave before you kicked me out,” Peter admitted. His eyes drifted from their surprised faces to Morgan chowing down on her noodles and he smiled. That girl knew how to throw down a meal.

“We aren’t going to throw you out!” Tony broke the silence.

“What were you talking about last night, then?” Peter asked, curious.

Tony sighed, “I’m sure you’ve seen the Bugle article by now, seeing your ‘disguise’, if you can even call it that,” _ Disguis- oh _. He’d forgotten to take the sunglasses off again. He took them off now and set them on the table. Tony grabbed Pepper’s hand and they shared a knowing glance.

“You know that we’re your temporary guardians, well, we were thinking-”

“Peter, we want to adopt you.” Pepper interrupted, knowing that Tony would have rambled forever if she hadn’t cut in. They looked at Peter expectantly.

_ Adopt me? _ Peter felt his shoulders sag in relief and he felt tears welling up in his eyes again. He tried to stop it, but a sob escaped his lips and soon he was crying again. _ They’re adopting me. They’re adopting me. _ He kept repeating this in his head but he couldn’t believe it. 

Tony and Pepper looked at each other, confused. Is he happy? Is he sad? Why is he crying? “Pete?”

“Why are you sad, Petey?” Morgan looked up from her noodles, mouth full.

Peter could only shake his head in response, a noise coming from him that could be discerned as a sob or a laugh. “I th-thought you were going to ki-kick me out,” Peter hiccupped. 

“So would you like to be adopted, Peter?” Pepper asked, eyes sincere.

Peter’s eyes shot up and he nodded vigorously, “Yes p-please,” he laugh-sobbed, and Morgan jumped up from her seat, running over and hugging Peter tight, Pepper and Tony following. 

“I say this calls for ice cream,” Tony suggested, paying for the meal. “I know a place that makes rolled ice cream not too far from here.” he looked at Pepper for permission and she nodded, laughing.

The four of them walked down the street in the afternoon sun to get to the ice cream shop. When they got there, Morgan chose to have strawberry, Peter got Cookies ‘n Cream, and Tony got chocolate. Pepper declined, “I have to get back to work,” she pulled Peter into a hug, “Welcome to the family, Peter.” In the icily air-conditioned ice cream shop, Peter felt warmed from the inside-out. For the first time in a long time, Peter felt at home.

But despite this, the nagging voice in Peter’s head told him that he wasn’t at home. That he was selfish, enjoying himself when May was dead. That nothing ever lasts. And that everyone who gets close to him dies.

But Peter finds the strength in himself to push those thoughts away. Maybe they’ll come back, but that is a problem for another day. 

Today he will enjoy being a part of the family.

Today he will enjoy happiness.

Today he will enjoy home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for the past couple weeks I've had writers block, so I apologize for the next few chapters lol.  
Anyway, Peter is adopted!!! How're we feeling about that?  
Thank you for all of the support this fic has received! Your kudos/comments/bookmarks sustain me.💕


	7. when time forgets and dust collects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, happy Saturday!  
This week I just realized that the timeline of this fic does not really match up perfectly with the MCU timeline... but if you think of Endgame as exactly five years after Infinity War, you'll be fine.
> 
> Title from "Souvenir" by Johnnyswim.

When they returned home, a big dinner was prepared, complete with sparkling cider to celebrate the momentous event. Peter signed his name on the adoption papers, enjoying the feeling of belonging.

It wasn’t until after everyone went to bed and the penthouse was silent until Peter really got thinking about the implications of what had happened. 

And then the guilt settled in.

_ Who are you, being happy when she’s dead? How dare you. She can’t enjoy life anymore, so neither should you. _ The nagging voice inside Peter’s head returned. It was the same one that had been there after Ben died, and his parents. But this time, it came with a vengeance, never really leaving Peter alone. 

Peter turned over in bed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand trying to push those thoughts out of his head by responding to texts. 

First, he filled Ned in on the whole situation. As expected, he freaked out. He tried to be respectful of Peter and what he’d gone through in the past month, but he couldn’t help himself, _ ‘Can I come over sometime?’ _’

Peter smiled to himself. He didn’t expect anything different. 

He opened the texts from MJ next. He didn’t know why, but there was a weird feeling in his stomach as he clicked on her name. It was almost like he was… nervous? Excited? Both? Peter didn’t know. MJ had always been just a friend. But maybe Peter had started to like the way she marched to the beat of her own drum. The way she didn’t feel like she had anyone to impress. Her intelligence. 

Peter set his phone back down on its’ wireless charger and closed his eyes, imagining what would happen if he asked MJ out.

Pepper took care of the public side of the adoption. She called a press conference the next day detailing the situation appropriately, excluding most of the details except for the fact that Peter was an SI intern who was orphaned by the Snap. Peter and Pepper had talked about how they wanted to present him to the public eye, but he didn’t feel ready to be in that position yet.

A couple weeks passed, and the last day of school arrived for the Midtown students. With the added stress of receiving passing grades on his final exams that would determine the course of the next year, Peter hadn’t slept a wink in three days. He dragged himself out of bed and got ready for his exams. 

His first day back from his suspension was rough. Everyone looked at him differently. Not only because he literally _ broke Flash’s nose _ , but also because he was now _ Tony freaking Stark’s adopted son _. 

Thankfully, he had Ned and MJ to walk with him through the uncertainty and ward off unwanted questions and stares.

Plus, MJ had threatened most of the students into not giving Peter any crap the day before, and they were too intimidated by her to say anything out of line. 

There was a soft knock on the door. “Up and at ‘em, kiddo,” Tony called through the door, “I made pancakes when you’re ready.” 

Peter smiled, “Thanks, Tony.” 

Peter packed up his backpack and ate breakfast, cramming for his calculus final as he ate and was driven to school.

  
The rest of the day passed in a blur, Peter passing all of his finals needed to pass on to the next year in school. 

The decathlon team hung out after school that day, everyone on the team bonding after it had gained some members who were dusted. Peter hung out with MJ and Ned. It was nice. MJ had been reinstated as the team captain. He guessed that the old captain didn’t want to stand in her way. And who could blame them? MJ was terrifying. Her and Ned were both going on the Europe trip and Peter wished he could go. 

When Peter returned to the Tower later that night, he could hardly keep his eyes open. He stumbled into the elevator yawning, FRIDAY taking him up to the penthouse. He dragged himself to his room and climbed into bed, falling asleep before his head even hit his pillow. 

Peter woke up to the smell of bacon wafting through the door. He groggily crawled out of bed and out to the kitchen, where Tony stood, shakily flipping strips of bacon with his weak arm. “Good morning, Petey,” Morgan ran over to Peter, enthusiastically taking his hand and pulling him over to the barstools.

“Morning, Morgs,”

“Hey, Pete, congrats on all of your tests yesterday. I just got an email from your school saying that you’re officially a senior. That’s exciting!” Pepper walked in, high-heels clicking on the hardwood floor. _ Does she wear those all the time? _ he wondered. Tony set the tongs down and turned around, briefly making eye contact with Pepper before saying, “We- we’re really proud of you.”

The statement hit Peter like a wall. Proud. They’re proud. Of him? May had said she was proud of him. May. May would have been proud of him too if she were here.

Peter hated that sentence.

_If she were here._

Peter’s cheeks burned and he got up to dish himself up some bacon.

“I also saw that the school’s going on a trip to Europe in a couple weeks,” Peter grabbed a plate and Pepper followed suit, piling them high with scrambled eggs. Tony picked up the set of tongs again and returned to the sizzling bacon, “Do you want to go?”

Peter looked up. “I mean I get it if you don’t want to, but I think that it’s a great opportunity to see a little bit of the world. I think it’s a good idea to travel whenever you possibly can. I mean, look at Pepper,” he gestures over to Pepper, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee, “She’s leaving on a business trip today to Japan for a meeting that could be done over Skype.” Pepper rolled her eyes. 

“I have other things to do while I’m there, but Tony has a point,” she backed him up, “It’s always a good idea to travel. Especially with your class, you will have a great time seeing Europe with your friends.”

Peter sat down with his breakfast and looked up at Tony, “I would love to go, but-”

“But what?” Tony cut him off.

“I don’t have the money,” Peter admitted quietly. 

Pepper chuckled softly and looked up to Peter staring at her and apologized. The look on Tony’s face was one of disbelief. “What do you mean you don’t have enough money? I would pay for you,”

“No, I could never ask-”

“Nope,” Tony pulled the last strip of bacon off the pan and set it on the plate, moving the plate to the table, where Morgan dug in, “that settles it. You’re going to Europe!”

Peter knew he was fighting a losing battle. “Thank you.” He looked at Tony and Pepper and smiled. He was going to Europe!

Since Pepper was leaving for a business trip, Tony, Morgan, and Peter headed up to the lake house upstate for the month. Peter packed a suitcase that Tony had given him full of everything that he would need to have for the next month, plus everything that he would need for his Europe trip. Midtown would embark on their journey in a week-and-a-half. 

Peter was so excited. The farthest he’d been away from home was Staten Island. Well, on Earth, at least. And this week, he’d be going upstate and then to Europe. He could hardly believe it. 

When he found out that he was going, he’d immediately texted Ned and MJ, ecstatic. It would be the three of them against, well, against the world. 

He was so, so glad to have them in his life. Even when he couldn’t have the one person who meant the most to him. He sat down and his heart ached. May would have been so excited for him. She and Ben met when they were studying abroad in Italy. 

He tried to push thoughts of May back down, but sometimes they couldn’t be contained. A tear slipped from one of his eyes, and he pulled himself back up to continue packing.

He eyed the pile of discarded clothes that he’d thrown in a corner emptying out his backpack from when he ran away. The Spiderman suit peeked out from the pile, daring Peter to pick it up. Peter took the dare and held the spandex suit in his hands, weighing his options.

If the penthouse would be sitting empty for a month, Tony might hire cleaners or something. Peter wouldn’t want his identity to be revealed by leaving it where it could be seen. He reasoned with himself and eventually tossed it in the bottom of his suitcase. He could just leave it at the cabin when he went on his trip, right?

He threw the rest of his things into the suitcase and zipped it up, remembering to grab his pillow on the way out of his room, closing the door behind him. 

They said their goodbyes to Pepper, promising to call her every day.

The three of them made their way to the garage, stuffing all of their stuff into the trunk of the flashy Audi and peeling out of the garage headed to the cabin, AC/DC blaring from the car speakers. But not too loud, of course. Tony loved playing his music as loud as it could go, so sometimes it was a big adjustment to not play it so loud as to hurt Peter’s ears. 

About three hours later, the three of them pulled into the driveway of the lake house. They grabbed their bags from the back of the car, and Morgan grabbed Peter’s hand to show him to his room. 

Tony slung his duffel bag over his right shoulder and closed the trunk, smiling as he followed the pair inside. Peter _ adored _ Morgan. It was precious. 

He took a deep breath. It was the first deep breath he’d taken in a long time. The last time he stood there, he never would have believed it if he’d been told what he’d do in the future. Getting Peter back. _ Adopting _ Peter. Saving the world in the process. 

He filled his lungs again with the clean, crisp air again and headed inside. “Who wants mac ‘n cheese?” he asked, walking through the door and setting his bag down.

“I do!” Morgan answered. Tony waited for a response from Peter, but he got none. Instead, Peter just walked around the cabin, eyes wide and jaw on the floor.

“You like the cabin, Pete?”

Peter could only nod in wonder. This place was huge! He could see why Tony liked it so much. “Morguna, why don’t you go show Petey the lake while I cook up some lunch?”

“Okay Daddy. Come on Petey, let’s go.” she pulled him outside, babbling on about whatever was on her mind at the moment. 

Tony watched the pair walk out. He loved them. His heart was full. 

“In the summer, we can swim in the lake, and in the winter, we can go ice skating.” Morgan explained, “And sometimes, we can take the canoe out into the lake and paddle around.”

“That sounds like fun, Morgs.”

“It is. But I gotta be very careful during summer, because I’m allergic to bees and if they sting me I get really sick.” 

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Peter smiled. This whole conversation started with Peter asking her what her favorite thing to do at the lake house was. He still hadn’t gotten a straight answer.

She continued talking, and Peter was content to just sit there and listen. She was a great kid. Pepper and Tony had done an incredible job with her. 

Soon enough, Tony called out to the two of them, letting them know that the mac ‘n cheese was ready to be eaten.

He helped himself to a big bowl of cheesy macaroni, and sat down, eating until he was full. When the three of them were done, Tony sent Morgan upstairs to take a nap.

Tony sat back down at the table with Peter, limbs heavy. It had been a long day, especially while his body was still recovering from the Snap. He’d been going to physical therapy to regain strength in his arm, and it was working well. Despite this, Tony still didn’t have the stamina that he used to. Nowadays, he couldn’t be moving around and doing things for more than six hours, or he’d tire himself out. 

“You look tired.” Peter stated, “You should go lay down for a little bit.” Tony’s eyes flicked to the dirty dishes sitting on the table and in the sink, “I can get the dishes. You go rest.” Peter ordered and Tony obeyed. 

Tony shuffled over to the couch layed down, grateful for Peter’s help. Tony was asleep in less than two minutes. 

Peter gathered all of the dirty dishes around the kitchen, setting them all on the counter next to the sink. He put the plug in the sink drain and drizzled blue dish soap in the empty sink, and turned on the water, letting the sink fill with warm, soapy water.

While he was waiting for the sink to fill, he looked up at the photos lining the shelf above the sink. There were a few old pictures of Howard and Maria Stark, some posed, others candid. There were also some pictures of Tony, Pepper, and Morgan. But the last photo shocked Peter.

It was one that he had had in his Queens bedroom. The one where he was receiving an upside-down SI certificate and holding up bunny ears behind Tony’s head. 

Tony must have taken that from one of the boxes from his old apartment. 

He cared enough to put Peter up on the family shelf. Peter turned off the water and set the dishes in to soak for a minute before scrubbing, rinsing, drying, and putting them away. 

When he was done, he dried his hands and took a step back, looking at all of the photos on the shelf together. Howard. Maria. Tony. Pepper. Morgan. And him. The one who felt like he had no place in the world had been on the Stark family photo shelf for five years.

This was his home.

He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is it that I have no inspiration for weeks, but then when I really need to start studying for finals I have all the ideas in the world?  
Thank you all for reading/kudos-ing/bookmarking/etc. You all are the absolute best!
> 
> EDIT: oh no team. I've made a mistake. Peter has Literally been to space. I'm fixing it right now, but I apologize if you saw this chapter before now. My b! Thanks for sticking with me!


	8. the love that we keep is the shelter we find

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Break is finally here! I'm hoping to get a lot of writing done in the next couple weeks, so y'all might be getting extra chapters. But don't quote me on that, we'll see how it actually goes haha.
> 
> Title is from "Bridges" by Johnnyswim.

Peter woke up knowing that it would be a good day. They’d been at the cabin for two days now, and they were some of the most relaxing days Peter had experienced in his life. Of course he still got nightmares and had moments of anxiety, but the good moments far outweighed the bad. 

Peter slowly blinked into consciousness and yawned so wide he felt his jaw pop. The midmorning light streamed through his blinds and Peter laid there for a moment, enjoying the warmth and comfort. 

Like every other night, he’d had a nightmare, but he was able to get back to sleep and stay asleep after this one. Some nights were better than others. 

Peter was just glad that this was one of the better ones. 

He heard Morgan’s girlish giggles float down the hallway, along with the scent of eggs and bacon. 

Smiling, he crawled out of bed and got dressed for the day, heading out for breakfast. 

“Good morning Petey,” Morgan greeted, beckoning for him to come sit by her at the table while Tony finished making breakfast. 

“How’d you sleep, kiddo?”

“Good, thanks,” Peter replied, taking a seat next to Morgan. She tapped his shoulder to show him something that was hidden underneath the table. In her hands rested a card made out of red construction paper with letters in gold glitter-glue that read _ Happy Father’s Day Daddy! _

It dawned on Peter. Today is Father’s Day. And he didn’t even remember. He didn’t even get Tony a card. What kind of a son was he, not even getting his adopted father a card? His breathing quickened and he excused himself from the table, claiming he’d be right back. 

When he got back to his room, he nearly tore it apart, searching for something, _ anything _, that would be an acceptable Father’s Day gift, but came up empty-handed. Everything Peter had was either a gift from Tony or was not going to work as a gift for a fifty year-old man. 

Peter sighed, sitting down on his bed and putting his head in his hands when he heard a knock on his door. 

“Hey, Pete, are you alright?” Tony pushed the door open, peeking his head through the crack.

“Y-yeah, I’m great, how are you? Happy Father’s Day!” The words tumbled out of Peter’s mouth, each one rushing to get out before the others. He met Tony at the door.

Tony chuckled, “Thanks, Pete. Breakfast is ready out here if you’re hungry.”

Peter smiled and Tony returned to the dining room. Peter took a couple deep breaths to calm himself but his stomach was a tangle of nerves. How could he have forgotten Father’s Day? When it was just him and May, they would always go to the cemetery and visit his parents and Ben’s graves, but this year, legally, he actually had a father. _ Do I have to start calling him Dad? _ Peter wondered, but quickly shook that thought out of his head. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. 

Seeing as there really was no suitable Father’s Day gift in Peter’s room, unless he wanted to regift Tony something he definitely already had, Peter headed out to eat breakfast with Tony and Morgan. 

He dished up a plate full of bacon and eggs, the pit in his stomach growing even more. _ He’s done so much for you, taking you in when he never had to, helping you rebuild your life, and this is how you repay him? By forgetting Father’s Day? _ He poured himself a glass of orange juice and sat down with Tony and Morgan. Before he could say anything, FRIDAY said, “Boss, there is an incoming call from Pepper Potts. Would you like to take this call?”

“Yeah, FRI, put her through.”

The connection took a second or two and then Pepper’s voice came through the speakers, “Happy Father’s Day honey! I’m sorry I can’t be there with you guys today,”

“Hey, Pep, no worries! Morgan and Pete and I are gonna have a fun day.” He winked at Morgan and she giggled softly.

“Oh really,” she paused, some background noise from wherever she was at the moment coming through the speakers along with her voice, “What do you guys have planned?”

“Well, I was thinking I’d teach Pete and Morgan how to fish today.” Fishing? Peter had never been fishing, but he’d always been curious to try.

“Fishing?” Morgan whispered loudly. Her face twisted skeptically. 

“That sounds like so muc-” Pepper stifled a yawn, “so much fun!” she finished. 

“I think we’ll let you get to sleep, Pep. I love you. Talk to ya later.”

“Love you too. Have fun today!” And with that, the call disconnected. 

“Okay,” Tony took his last bite of eggs and got up from the table to set his plate in the sink. “Let’s all go get ready and then we can head out to the lake to try fishing.” He walked back over to the table, picking up Morgan’s card to him and took it with him to get ready.

“Why are we going fishing? It kinda seems boring.” Morgan tugged on Peter’s shirt.

“It’s gonna be fun, Morgs. Have you ever been fishing before?”

“Well, no,” Peter took her hand.

“Me neither. Let’s just go try it, and if we don’t think it’s fun, we don’t have to go again. Sound good?”

“Okay.” 

Peter brushed his teeth, the guilt inside him still gnawing in his gut. The voice in his head told him that, not only was he a horrible adopted son for forgetting Father’s Day, but he was also a horrible son for not visiting the cemetery this year. This would be the first year that he did not visit his parents and uncle. And now aunt. 

Well, it wasn’t really the first year that Peter hadn’t visited. Technically it had been five years since he visited on Father’s Day. But he would never tell Tony that he wanted to go. He didn't want to ruin his first Father's Day with a father by asking to go to the cemetery. 

Peter didn’t want to think about that. He felt bad enough already. 

He finished getting ready and met Tony and Morgan on the porch, where Tony was gathering all of the supplies they would need. Rods, reels, line, bait, camping chairs, snacks.

“Alright team, grab your stuff and head down to the dock.” Tony led the way, unfolding his chair and setting it on the edge of the dock. Peter and Morgan follow suit, setting all of their things down next to Tony and unfolding their chairs.

“Today we’re going to be fishing for rainbow trout.” He paused, scooping a little rainbow-colored dough-like substance from a small jar. “This is called Powerbait.” He rolled the dough into a small ball and speared it on the hook attached to the line. “It smells pretty rank,” he held out the jar for Morgan and Peter to take a sniff of, “and it attracts a lot of fish because of that.”

Morgan holds the jar up to her nose and her face crinkles, “That is really gross.”

“Then, what you do next, is to flip this hoop thing on the reel while holding the line,” he demonstrates, “and cast the line.” The line glides off the reel gracefully and lands in the water with a soft _ plonk _, the bobber resting on the surface of the water. He sets his pole into the cup holder in his chair and starts to set up Morgan’s bright pink pole.

When her pole is ready, Tony hands it off to her and starts working on Peter’s, while coaching his daughter through the casting process. She attempted to replicate her dad’s near-perfect cast, but her fingers got caught up in the line and the bobber flew a whole two feet before it met the surface of the water with a _ plunk _. 

Tony laughed, “That was a great cast, babe.” He hands Peter his pole. “Wanna give it a try?”

Peter takes the pole and smiles. He was confident in his ability as a fisherman, despite never having fished before. How hard could it possibly be? 

He held the line just like Tony had, flipped the hoop and threw the cast, the bobber only going a miserable four feet before splashing into the water. 

Tony chuckled as he picked his own pole back up, “I see we have a couple of master fishers right here,”

The trio spent most of the day out there on the dock, sometimes chatting quietly, other times just enjoying the serenity of nature.

Around dinnertime, they had caught five trout. Tony stayed outside to clean them and Morgan and Peter went inside to start making the potato wedges. 

It had been a great day, super relaxed and calm, but Peter was still a ball of stress. What was he going to do? Tony was probably still expecting a gift from him and he had nothing to give. He didn’t even have materials to make a card. _ I’ll tell him I forgot about today after we eat dinner _. Peter decided. Maybe a full belly after a day in the sun will put Tony in a better mood to begin with. 

After Tony was done cleaning and baking the trout, the trio sat down at the table to eat some fish and potatoes. It was a filling dinner and Peter gorged himself on the wedges.

When they were finished eating, Tony pushed his plate away from himself and stretched back, yawning. “What do you guys think of a movie night?”

“That sounds fun.” Peter answered, “Wanna go choose a movie, Morgs?”

“Sure!” She hopped off her seat and walked over toward the TV room. 

“So, Tony,” Peter started. 

“Yeah? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, everything’s fine with me, I just- I just have something I need to tell you.” His stomach turned and he wished he hadn’t eaten as much as he did. “I, I kinda… well, y’know, I haven’t really celebrated Father’s Day, like, ever, and especially since Ben died, me and May would just go to the cemetery and visit the family plot,” he cleared his throat, “so I kinda forgot about getting you a card or a gift.” he admitted, looking down at his plate not wanting to see the disappointment on Tony’s face. “So I just wanted to say I’m really sorry. I know I’m a horrible person, it’s just that these past few months have been hard on everybody and I guess they just got to me-”

“Kid, you gotta stop. Hey, look at me.” Peter raised his gaze to meet Tony’s. “It’s okay.” Peter bit the inside of his cheek, lower lip trembling. “It’s okay. You are all the gift I need, okay? Do you hear me?” Peter nodded. “Listen to me. When you were dusted, a part of me was dusted too. I thought I would never see you again. The thought _ killed _ me. The idea of having to live a life without someone as important to me as you terrified me. You’re the reason that I decided I wanted kids. Because a part of me always considered you to be my kid. Listen, kid, I-” he paused, “I love you.”

_ He loves me? _ Peter was speechless. “You… you love me?”

“Yes,” Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the vulnerability of the moment making him squirm, “Why don’t you go see how Morgan’s doing on choosing a movie and I’ll clean up here.” Peter nodded and walked off toward the TV room wordlessly, the statement still shocking him. _ He loves me. _

_ He loves me. He loves me. I am loved. I am loved. _The words going through his mind over and over again, providing comfort like a warm blanket on a cold day. It was a good feeling. 

Later, when Morgan had chosen a movie (one of the newest Star Wars films that Peter hadn’t seen yet) the trio settled in on the couch. Tony sat in between Peter and Morgan, a kid tucked under each arm. He’d never felt more content. How did he get so lucky as to have not one, but two amazing kids? He smiled as he looked down on the two of them, awake but sun-tired and warm. 

They watched the film in silence, void of Peter’s babbling commentary of almost every other movie they’d ever watched together, and by the end of the movie, both Peter and Morgan had drifted to sleep. 

Tony stood up, careful not to disturb the two of them, and picked Morgan up to tuck her into bed. He carried her up the stairs and laid her gently into bed. “FRIDAY, activate Night Light protocol please.” Tony whispered, and the AI silently dimmed the lights to five percent, and if Morgan should wake up in the night, they would brighten up to thirty percent. “Love you Morguna.” he planted a kiss in Morgan’s soft brown hair and headed back downstairs to wake Peter up, closing the door to Morgan’s room on his way out. 

As he was descending the stairs, Tony could tell that something was not right. When he walked into the TV room, his stomach dropped. 

Peter was thrashing around on the couch, gasping for air, seemingly fighting invisible attackers. He was drenched in sweat and he clawed at his throat to let more air into his lungs, but to no avail, more air would not come.

“Uh, FRI, can I wake the kid up?”

“Waking Peter up gently would not cause him more harm. I recommend it.”

“Hey, Pete, hey,” Tony walked around the couch to be facing Peter, dodging flailing arms and legs as he did so. “Kid, you’re okay, it’s all okay.” Tony grabbed Peter’s shoulders and said a little louder now as the thrashing became more intense, “Pete, wake up. Wake _ up _.” He squeezed Peter’s shoulders and it broke through the haze.

“T-Tony?” Peter asked, out of breath, almost sobbing, “I’m s-sorry I-”

“Shhhh shhh _ piccolo _ you’re okay, you’re safe.” He moves up to sit next to Peter on the couch, pulling the shaking form closer to himself. Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s sweaty curls and said, “It was just a dream, okay? You’re safe. Take a couple deep breaths with me. In,” he demonstrated, taking big, exaggerated breaths for Peter to copy, “and out.” He demonstrated again, letting all of the air leave his lungs. “In… and out.” They repeated this process until Peter’s sobs dissolved into hiccups and the hiccups dissolved into sniffles. 

“There you go, nice work kiddo.” Tony praised, “Do you want me to bring you a glass of water?” Peter nodded wordlessly and Tony got up to do his bidding. “I’ll be right back.”

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with cool water. _ What was that? _ he wondered. He remembered getting nightmares after Afghanistan, and after the Battle of New York, too, but Peter was just a kid. He was too young to have PTSD. Too young to have experienced most of the things in his life that he’d experienced thus far. He took the filled glass out to the TV room and handed it to Peter, who gratefully accepted, draining most of the glass before coming up for air. 

“Thanks, Tony.” he drank the rest of the water in his glass and set it down on an end table. “I’m sorry about that,” he looked down at his hands. 

“No apologies. Okay? You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for, got it?” Peter nodded. “However,” he started, “I do think we should talk about what just happened.” Peter looked up, “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

Peter cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling to try and stem the tears before they came again. “Um, we were- we were back on Titan and I-I was getting dusted again. Nothing new, I guess. Most nights aren’t that bad, but others…” he trailed off.

Tony didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t thought about how traumatizing that must have been for Peter. How much it must have _ hurt _. The bruises on Tony’s arms from Peter’s fingers as he was being torn away didn’t fade for weeks. Of course it would have hurt. With Peter’s healing factor and everything, Peter would have felt every cell turning to dust and frantically trying to heal itself but ultimately failing.

“Do you get nightmares often?”

Peter nodded. “Almost every night.”

“_ Kid _,” Tony said, heart breaking, “Why don’t you ever come wake me or Pepper up?”

Peter shrugged, “It just didn’t seem very important I guess? I’m almost always able to calm myself down after them but…”

“As your,” he paused, “_ adopted _ parents, it’s our job to care about the things you don’t think are worth us worrying about. You should have told one of us.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Remember what I said about apologies?” Peter nodded. “Have you ever thought about talking with a therapist about this?”

“No.” Peter shook his head, “There was no money back when…” he cleared his throat, “when May was around, so I just decided to tough it out. And if I could handle it then, then I can handle it now.”

“Pete, your mental health is just as important as your physical health. If you had a broken leg, I wouldn’t let you walk around on it. I mean, look at my arm, for example. If I didn’t go to physical therapy or do my stretches and exercises, it would still be just as useless as it was the first day in the hospital. But now, I’m rebuilding mobility and strength, and, soon, it’ll be as good as new. I know it’s not really the same, but it’s the same concept. You can’t do this alone, Pete. You need help.”

Peter stifled a yawn and nodded, “I’m sorry, kid. You can think about it, I just think it would be a good idea.” Noticing Peter’s eyelids drooping, Tony asked, “Do you wanna head up to bed?” 

Peter’s eyes widen and he shook his head, “Do you want to watch a movie?”

Tony chuckled. “Alright, ONE movie. You pick.” He handed the remote to Peter, who chose _ The Princess Bride _. An oldie but a goodie, as Peter always claimed.

As the movie played on, Tony had FRIDAY dim the lights and turn down the volume so Peter could drift back to sleep. Peter grabbed a blanket and tucked himself into Tony’s side letting his eyelids droop closed. 

About halfway through the movie, Peter’s sleepy voice woke Tony up, who’d already fallen asleep. “T’ny?”

“Yeah, kiddo?” 

“I love you too.”

And with that, Peter was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was brought to you by the fact that I COMPLETELY forgot that Father's Day existed, and this is my attempt to throw some fluff into this story before it gets REAL angsty in the next couple chapters.
> 
> but...
> 
> EVERYONE---- 
> 
> WE HAVE AN I LOVE YOU
> 
> How do we feel about that? Like always, thank you all so so so so much for all the support this fic has received. Every hit/kudos/comment/bookmark makes my day!


	9. don't mean to start no trouble, dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is... very long. I'm so sorry. I hope you enjoy it!  
Sidenote-- I'm making this story into a series! I'm planning on just writing out all of my ideas that happen in this AU and just sticking them here. I've already written a oneshot, and it's kinda precursor to this chapter, but it's pretty much just inconsequential fluff so you don't have to read it to understand this chapter.
> 
> Title is from "Trouble" by Johnnyswim.

They’d been at the cabin for about a week-and-a-half. It was the most restful week of Peter’s life. Of course, he still struggled with nightmares every night, and self-deprecating thoughts, but he was always surrounded by his family. Family. The concept was strange to Peter. For so many years it had just been him and May and Ben, and then just him and May. 

It was a family, just a different kind than he was used to. 

Every day, the trio would sleep in and Tony would make them breakfast. Then Tony would do his physical therapy exercises and Peter and Morgan would go swimming in the lake. It was late June, so they were able to beat the unbearable afternoon heat if they swam in the morning. 

Peter was content. 

But every so often, the nagging voice between his ears would return, guilting him for enjoying life when May couldn’t. 

And in those moments, when Peter felt like he was drowning in his own head, Tony and Morgan were always there to pull him up and set him on dry land. 

He appreciated it. 

  
  


One night, after Peter took a nap, he emerged from his room to an empty cabin, filled with anxiety. He’d had another nightmare, another one of May dying. He heard Tony and Morgan talking outside, but it was dark out (_Is it really that late? I’ll never be able to sleep after this_) so he went out to investigate. He found them lying on the lawn on a blanket spread out over the grass. 

“Hey, Pete, why don’t you come join us?” Tony asked, eyes half-lidded.

“What are you doing?” Peter approached the pair.

“We’re stargazing!” Morgan said and Peter looked up. He’d never been far away enough from the city to actually see stars. Of course, he’d seen them when he’d been to space, and Wakanda, but that was different. Those were experiences he wanted to forget. This is real. This is safe. This is home. 

It was incredible.

The inky black sky was peppered with little specks of white, some bigger than others, all surrounding a half-moon. Peter stumbled over to the blanket, never taking his eyes off the sky.

“Do y’like it?” Morgan asked.

“It’s beautiful!” Peter replied. “I’ve never seen stars from Earth before.”

Morgan’s head shot up to look at Peter, who was now laying on the blanket next to her, eyebrows raised. “You’ve never seen stars from Earth? How?”

“Well, I haven’t really ever been far away from the city before. It’s too bright there so you can’t see them.” Tony started snoring softly and the two of them giggled.

Morgan thought for a bit. “Do you want me to tell you all of the constellations?”

“I would love that, Morgs.” Peter had already learned about the constellations in astronomy and could pick out the ones that shone in the night sky above them, but decided to humor Morgan. Pepper had mentioned to him that Morgan adored astronomy and had all the constellations and planets that she could see memorized. 

As she went on about the constellations, pointing each of them out to Peter as she named them, she got sleepier and sleepier, eventually having to pause in the middle of a word to yawn. And when she finally fell asleep, Peter layed there, still awake of course, just watching over the two of them as they slept. It was so peaceful and quiet. So he stayed. For the rest of the night, just laying under the stars, enjoying the night sky and the presence of Morgan and Tony sleeping next to him. 

  
  


The day before he was scheduled to leave for Europe, Peter emptied out his suitcase and put everything on his bed, laid out so he could decide what he needed to bring. 

After he’d set everything he thought he needed into his suitcase, Tony came in and double-checked, listing off everything he thought Peter would need on his travels. 

“Toothbrush?” Peter nodded. “Toothpaste?” he nodded again. “Deodorant?”

“Yep. I think I have everything I need.”

“Spiderman suit?”

“I’m not bringing it.”

“Why not? You never know when you might need it. Super nice for impressing the ladies…” he raised his eyebrows at Peter.

“I don’t know. I feel like they should like me for me before they know about…” he trailed off, gesturing to the suit, “him. Besides, I haven’t really wanted to go out on patrol since… everything, and it might be a little weird if Spiderman disappears from Queens and resurfaces in Europe five years later just in time for a Queens school to be on their Europe trip.”

Tony nodded. “I get it. Just, think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter agreed. He left the suitcase unzipped in case he needed to throw anything in later, and the two of them walked outside to join Morgan, who was playing in her tent. 

“What do you want to do today, Miss Morgs?” Peter asked the girl and she shrugged.

“Pepper gave me this to-do list for the cabin before she left,” Tony said, eyeing the first item on the list, “Do you want to plant some flowers out in the front?”

“That sounds like fun to me. What do you think Morgs?” Peter asked.

“Okay! What kind of flowers are they?”

“Whichever kind you want.” Tony replied.   
  


After the three of them went inside for lunch, they went to the store to pick out some flowers and Morgan chose every pink or purple flower that the store had in stock. 

When they got back to the cabin, her and Peter put on gloves to start planting the flowers, while Tony went around the house to start on another project: knocking down the beehive from the roof. He needed Morgan to be doing something else during this so she wouldn’t accidentally get stung by an angry bee from the displaced hive.

  
  
Peter and Morgan finished patting the dirt around the last flower. “Do you want to go fill up the watering can so we can water the flowers while I’ll go pour us some lemonade?”

“Sure!” she ran off to the spigot, metal watering can bouncing against her legs, and Peter filled two glasses with lemonade and carried them out in front of the flowers and sat down on the ground, waiting for Morgan. 

“Morgs?” Peter called out. It had been a long time since he’d told her to go fill the watering can and his heart started beating a little harder anxiously. He tried to tell himself that he was making himself anxious for nothing, but when he rounded the corner to the spigot, his stomach dropped.

Morgan was laying there on the ground, chest rising and falling irregularly, soaking wet with water from the can that had spilled when she fell. Peter could hear her heartbeat, too fast, too intense to be normal. He ran over and pressed two fingers to her neck and found a pulse. Of course there was a pulse. He could hear her heart beating. He chastised himself for wasting time and his breathing was ragged now. No matter how many times he filled his lungs, he couldn’t get enough air. “T-Tony!” he choked out. “Tony! Help!”

Tony stumbled off the ladder as fast as he could. He’d gotten most of the hive down, he was just working on getting the last bits. He was thankful for his Iron Man suit, which did not allow any bees to get through to his skin. Peter never yelled like that. He was not prepared for what he saw when he ran out of the cabin. Peter, kneeling over an unconscious Morgan, pressing his fingers to find her pulse. 

He kneeled down over Morgan and put a hand on her pale and clammy forehead. Hives had already started to cover her cheeks and he heard her wheezing as she tried to squeeze air into her lungs. Her mouth and tongue were swollen. It all added up. She got stung. 

“Pete. What happened.” His voice was grave and he scooped Morgan up in his arms.

“I-I-I don’t know, she left for one seco-”

“You were supposed to protect her!” he said this more to himself than to Peter, but a look of hurt immediately crossed Peter’s face.

“I’m sorr-”

“No! You were supposed to protect her!” He turned away and flew off toward the nearest medical center, carrying Morgan in his arms. “FRIDAY, ETA at the hospital.”

“Approximately twelve minutes, Boss. Should I alert Happy Hogan to pick up Peter?”

“Yes.” Tony replied, blinking to clear his eyes of tears. He looked down at Morgan- _ sweet, baby Morgan _ \- in his arms willing himself to go faster to get to the hospital. He let this happen. He should have had them do something inside instead of _ freaking plant flowers _ outside. “It’s gonna be okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay.”

  
  


Peter’s legs shook as he tried to stand up, collapsing before he could even take a step. _ It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fau- _

“Peter?” a tentative Happy Hogan stepped out onto the patio to approach Peter. Peter was rocking back and forth now, hands pulling at his hair. Happy sat next to the boy. “Peter, you’re okay. Hey, hey,” he pulled Peter’s hands away from his hair, snapping a few strands in the process. “Peter, look at me.” Peter complied. “Are you hurt?”

Was he hurt? He took inventory on himself and shook his head no. No. He didn’t think so. 

“Okay. That’s good. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I th-think she got s...stung by a bee and she’s allergic so she had a reaction and-” he rambled, beginning to hiccup again.

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay, Peter.” Happy put a hand on Peter’s back. “She’s going to be okay. She’s a tough cookie.”

“It’s all my f-fault,”

“Peter.” Happy said, “Did you make that bee sting her? No? I didn’t think so. It’s not your fault.”

“I should have checked on her sooner, I should have protected her!” Peter attested.

“Peter. There is nothing you could have done. Nothing. Got it?” Peter nodded and sniffled. “Let’s go inside.” he grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him to his feet, supporting him as they walked into the cabin together, Peter taking a seat on a barstool. 

Happy handed Peter a glass of water. “So,” he started, “you’re leaving for Europe tomorrow.” Peter nodded, drinking the water. “Do you want to get a headstart on the trip? Leave tonight and you could spend the night with a friend in the city or something?”

Peter sniffed, the post-panic exhaustion settling in as he failed to hold back a yawn. “Sure. I don’t really have anywhere to go, but maybe I could stay the night at the Tower?” He didn’t really feel like asking MJ or Ned to take him in for the night. Plus, they’d be seeing more than enough of each other on the trip without spending a night together before. They were best friends, but a week-and-a-half is a long time to spend with someone, even your best friend.

“That works, kid. Are you packed?” Peter nodded. “Alright. Go grab all your stuff and meet me in the car in thirty minutes.”

“Okay Happy.” Happy was different than before the Snap, Peter noted. Nicer, maybe? More… happy?

Peter walked into his room and saw his zipped-up suitcase sitting on his bed. Tony must have zipped it up for him. 

Tony.

_ You should have protected her. _

Peter pushed the thought away. It was his fault, but repeating that wouldn’t help Morgan now. 

He grabbed his suitcase off his bed and wheeled it out to meet Happy in the car. It hadn’t been thirty minutes, but he didn’t have much else to do. 

“All set kiddo?”

“Yep. Thanks Happy.”

“No problem. Anything for the Spider-baby.” Peter rolled his eyes and stepped into the car. He would not be disappointed if he was never called that again.

  
  


Tony flew as fast as he could to get to the hospital. Every second with his baby girl in his arms fighting for breath was torture for him. She was fighting for her_ life _ and he couldn’t do anything. When they got there, he rushed into the hospital, ignoring the weird looks and videos he was sure were being taken and handed Morgan over to the ER staff. 

“She’s got-” he paused to catch his breath as they whisked his girl off to a bay, “she’s allergic to bees and she just got stung, possibly anaphylactic.”

“It’s lookin’ like it. Can I get .2 mg of epinephrine?” The doctor asked one of the nurses. She handed the doctor a syringe and the doctor immediately injected the syringe into Morgan’s thigh. After a few seconds, Morgan took a deep breath for the first time in about fifteen minutes, and Tony nearly collapsed from relief. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Tony asked.

The doctor nodded and inserted an IV into Morgan’s arm. “She’ll be fine. Be glad that you got here when you did. She probably wouldn’t have made it a couple more minutes. But she’ll be just fine now. How about you take a seat now, Mister Stark.” She pointed to a chair next to Morgan’s bed, “You’re looking a little pale.”

Tony nodded. Yeah. He was feeling a little dizzy. He stumbled into the chair and sat with his head between his knees as the doctor put a small oxygen mask over Morgan’s mouth and nose. When he was feeling a little more stable, he sat back up to greet the doctor properly.

“I’m, uh, Tony Stark. This is Morgan, my daughter. Thank you.” He covered one of Morgan’s hands with his own.

“Good to meet you, Mister Stark. I am Doctor Gonzales.” She extended a hand to shake and Tony took it.

“Is she going to be okay?”

“She will be just fine, Mister Stark. It would be best if we keep her here overnight to monitor her for any other symptoms, but you did exactly the right thing.”

Tony nodded, suddenly aware of all of the stares from other patients and staff at the hospital. “Is there a way we could get a private room or something?”

“Yes, of course, Mister Stark. I’ll arrange for her to be transported right now.” She left to talk with someone in the kiosk and he sat back down, lightly running his thumb over the back of her hand.

“Alright, Mister Stark,” Doctor Gonzales returned, flanked by two nurses who put up the guardrails on Morgan’s gurney and began to wheel her away. Tony and Doctor Gonzales follow, “She is being moved to our VIP wing. She should be waking up very soon and you’re welcome to stay here overnight with her if you would like.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

“No problem. Hey, if you don’t mind my asking, where’s Peter?”

The question surprised Tony, but he didn’t know why. Of course she would know about Peter. Of course _ everyone _ would know about Peter. The ‘illegitimate child’ story had caught fire a few weeks ago and the news of the adoption did nothing to put it out. They’d tried to fight fire with fire, and it only made the news bigger.

“Peter is safe and with a close friend.” Tony deadpanned. 

“Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, I just-” she stammered.

“It’s fine,” Tony released a breath, “It’s just been a stressful day.”

When they arrived to the room, Tony was greeted by a man in scrubs whose name tag read “Max Goodwin”. “Hey Tony- can I call you Tony?”

Tony nodded, never taking his eyes off Morgan who was being transferred from the gurney to a more permanent bed in the middle of the room, “Uh, sure.”

“Okay Tony,” Doctor Goodwin looks down at the clipboard in his hands, “Could I get you to step outside to fill out some paperwork while the nurses get your daughter settled in here?” Tony followed the other man outside and Doctor Goodwin shut the door behind them, handing Tony the clipboard and a pen. 

When he was finished filling out Morgan’s medical history and their insurance information, he handed the clipboard back to Doctor Goodwin and went back in with Morgan. As soon as he walked in, the nurses left, telling him to let them know if the two of them needed anything. 

He sat down next to Morgan, now in a blue and white hospital gown and socks, old clothes folded on the table underneath the TV. He realized he was still in his Iron Man suit and stood up to press a button on his wrist, effectively collapsing the suit into a briefcase.

He sat back down and it all hit him at once. He told Peter it was all his fault. His harsh words said in the panic of the moment haunted him, seeming to echo off the grey hospital walls and the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the NYC skyline. 

After all this time, it only took six little words to tear down every ounce of familiarity and comfort Peter felt with Tony. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He answered to a not-so-happy Happy Hogan.

“How’s Morgan?”

He looked over at her, still sleeping, taking rhythmic breaths of oxygen through the mask, “She’ll be okay. She’s resting and will be here overnight, but she’ll be okay.”  
  
“Good.”

“So… how’s Peter?”

“You messed up. You messed up bad this time, Boss. I don’t like to say it, but you did. I don’t know what all exactly you said to him, but I walked out to him, curled up in the fetal position rocking back and forth and telling himself that it was all his fault. And I know that he would blame himself for every problem on this earth, but he won’t even call you.”

Tony put his head in his hands, “Thanks for the heads-up,” he retorted.

“I’ll let you know when I drop Peter off with the school. Call me if anything changes with Morgan.”

“Will do.” He hung up and sighed. 

He tried to call Peter, but he didn’t pick up. He left a voicemail in Peter’s mailbox, “Hey, Pete. Morgan is doing well, she’s staying in the hospital overnight so they can monitor her, but she’s going to be fine. Call me back when you get this, okay?” 

He dialed Pepper’s number with shaky fingers. It was really late in Japan, but he selfishly hoped that she would pick up. She always knew what to do.

On the third ring, her tired voice came through Tony’s phone. “Tony, it’s almost midnight. What do you need?” Hearing her voice unclipped something in Tony and he began to tear up, the stress of everything settling in. 

“I- uh, I made a big mistake,” he started, going on to spill everything that had happened in the past few hours. 

When he finished, Pepper simply said, “Tony,”

“Yeah?” 

“It’s already been so difficult for him to be comfortable with us and then you say that Morgan getting stung by a bee is his fault? In what universe was that going to turn out well? Have you tried calling him?”

Tony shook his head and cleared his throat, getting up from his seat to look out the window, “Yeah, he didn’t pick up. Happy called and said that Peter won’t call me. They’re at the Tower right now. Spending the night in the city before he leaves, I guess.”

“You have to talk to him about this,”

“I know. But I don’t feel like I can leave Morgan here by herself, and he leaves before she will get discharged. And if he doesn't pick up, we won’t be able to get to him until after his trip.”

“I’ll try calling him,” she suggested.

“Thanks, Pep. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

  
  


Peter picked up his buzzing phone. Him and Happy had just arrived back at the Tower and he was back in his room. “Hey Pepper. Isn’t it, like, super late in Japan right now? What are you doing up?”

“Hi Peter. I heard about what happened with Morgan.” His heart sank.

“Listen, I’m really sorry, I know I should have checked on her sooner and I know that it was my job to protect her. I’m really sorry-”

“Stop it, Peter. This is not your fault, okay? There was nothing you could have done. It’s not your fault. She is going to be okay. I just talked with Tony, and she is resting comfortably right now. She’s staying overnight at the hospital, but she can go back to the cabin tomorrow. It’s all okay. Nobody blames you. Tony is really sorry for what he said. He didn’t mean it.”

It was silent for a beat. “It’s okay.” Pepper didn’t know what to say. “I know it’s my fault and I’m really sorry. What he said was true. I don’t want to keep you up any later than you need to be. It was good to hear from you. Goodnight, Pepper.” And with that, he hung up.

Pepper sat still in bed for a little while, thinking about what they were going to do about this. He really believes that it’s his fault. She texted Tony about how their conversation had gone and layed down and turned off the light. How are they going to fix this?  
  


“So is there anything you want to do during your last day in the city before you become a world-traveler?” Happy asked Peter as they reconvened in the kitchen. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet since he picked him up, despite Happy’s best efforts to be conversational to try to keep the kid out of his own head. 

Peter pulled out a barstool and had a seat, fiddling with the hem of his shorts. “Not really.”

“Are you sure? Nowhere you want to go eat out at? Nothing you want to do?”

“Well…” Peter started. “You’ll probably think this is a really weird request, but…”

“We can do weird requests, kid.” Happy cut him off.

“Could I maybe, I don’t know… go to the cemetery? You know, to see May and Ben and my parents? May and I always used to go on Father’s Day, but this year… y’know, we were at the lake house, and so I couldn’t really ask to go to the cemetery because it would have ruined Father’s Day, but I haven’t been to see them in, well, over five years I guess and-”

Happy stopped his rambling by putting a hand on his shoulder. “Of course we can, Peter. Do you want to go there right now, or do you want to stay here for a little bit?”

Peter thought for a moment. “I think right now would be good. Otherwise I might change my mind. I need to do this now.”

“It’s not a problem, Pete. Do you want to pick up some flowers on the way?”

Peter nodded. _ Yellow roses _. Happy got the message and the two of them headed down to the garage and pulled out toward the cemetery without another word. Peter was filled with nerves but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because it had been over five years since he had last been to visit. Maybe he was worried that they would somehow… disapprove of him? Peter tried not to think about this.

They stopped at the florist’s on the way there and picked up four bouquets of yellow roses. Peter suggested that they just a twelve-flower bouquet into three roses for each grave, but Happy insisted on getting each of them their own bouquet. 

When they pulled into a parking spot close to the entrance, Happy turned to Peter, “Do you want me to go in there with you?”

“I… I think I’m okay. Thanks, Happy.” Peter opened the car door and started getting out, struggling to hold the bouquets at the same time.

“No problem. Take your time, kiddo. We have all the time in the world. Call or text me if you need anything, okay?” Peter nodded and shut the car door with his free hand. 

As he approached the family plot, his legs felt like they were getting weaker and weaker. When he finally reached the four headstones all laid out in a row, the only thing he could do was sit on the soft grass, staring at the four identical marble headstones engraved with all of the names of his family members.

They didn’t used to be marble. But when Tony saw the shape that Peter’s parent’s and Ben’s bronze grave markers were in, he knew he had to do something about them. He told Peter that he was going to replace them, but Peter couldn’t recall that specific conversation. It was like there was a black hole in his memory which covered most of the first few weeks after May’s funeral.

He crossed his legs and ripped a few blades of grass from the ground, pulling them apart into smaller and smaller strips. His vision blurred and he blinked back tears. He cleared his throat. “So, um, maybe I’m crazy for talking to you guys, but I just wanted to be here. With you all. Because,” he sniffed, “I miss you. I miss you all so much.” He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and he hung his head, letting the tears drip off his nose and fall into his lap. 

“Tony and Pepper and Morgan are great, they really are,” Peter explained, “but everything is so… _ different _ now. It’s like, I want to go home, but I’m in the place that should be my home. And today,” he paused, “today I failed at keeping Morgan safe. I had one job. I had one job, and I failed. I don’t know what to do now.” He turned to May’s headstone, her name engraved in the marble. “I wish you were still here. I really miss you. I feel miserable all the time. When I’m happy, I feel guilty because you’re not here. And the rest of the time, I just cry. I cry all the time. It sucks. And I know you would want me to be happy. But I can’t stop feeling bad. I don’t know how.”

He sat there for a long time, letting the hot NYC sun blaze down on the top of his head and shoulders. 

Peter talked for most of the time, not necessarily trying to fill the silence, but more of just trying to update them on his life. He told them about everything, big and small. It felt nice to get everything off his chest. It wasn’t a permanent fix, Peter knew this, but he felt better after talking about it. He wondered if this was what therapy feels like.

When he had talked to his heart’s content, he sat there in silence, beginning to get uncomfortable from the heat. He turned his head when he heard footsteps walking down the paved path toward him to see Happy, armed with a few bottles of water.

“Hey kiddo,” he said when he got closer, handing Peter three bottles of water. “How are you doing?” He kneeled down next to where Peter was sitting as Peter uncapped the water and drank it all. 

“I’m alright, thanks Happy.”

“Are you ready to head out? You’ve been out here for over an hour, you must be getting hungry.” Peter looked back over at the four stones in front of him. He was getting kind of hungry, but he didn’t really want to leave yet. He ripped out another fistful of grass. “If you’re not ready to leave yet, that’s completely fine. Whatever you want, Pete.”

“Could we stay for a little bit longer? I’m sorry,” Peter apologized.

“Don’t apologize. We can do whatever you want, Pete. We have all day. Do you want me to wait in the car?” Secretly, Happy hoped that Peter would say yes. He had never been a huge fan of the NYC summer heat. He didn’t know how Peter could bear to sit here in this heat for so long.

“You can stay here, if you want to,” Happy took that as a ‘please stay with me’, so he leaned back.

“Do you want to talk about anything?”

Peter was quiet for a moment and then shrugged, reality beginning to settle back in around him. “I don’t know. I just feel horrible.”

“About Morgan?” Happy asked and Peter nodded. “Listen, I know you blame yourself for everything, but there was nothing you could have done. Okay? Nothing. And fixating on what you possibly could have done differently will not change anything either. It’s not your fault.”

Peter pulled his legs up to his chest and hugged his knees closer to his body. “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s going to be completely fine. Allergic reactions happen. They suck, but they happen. And, yeah, the goal is to completely avoid them, but that doesn’t always happen. Tony doesn’t blame you, Pepper doesn’t blame you, Morgan doesn’t blame you. Nobody blames you.”

Peter nodded and they sat there for another fifteen minutes before Peter started to get up. He picked up all of the bouquets and set one down in front of each stone, running his fingers over the hot marble as he walked past. “Okay,” he said after he placed the last bouquet, “I’m ready.” Happy pushed himself off the ground and grabbed the bottled water that remained. 

When they got back to the car, Happy turned on the AC at full blast and drove back to the Tower, neither of them saying anything. They went up to the penthouse silently too. Happy didn’t know what to say. Nothing that came to his mind seemed right for the moment. 

“They would all be so proud of you.” Happy said quietly as the elevator doors slid open on the top floor. Peter didn’t say anything, just stared back at Happy. “Really they would have. You’re amazing, kid.” He put an arm around Peter’s shoulders. Happy had never really been a super touchy-feely man, but he knew that Peter was and tried to adjust to accommodate him. Peter leaned into the hug.

“Thanks, Happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. I'm sorry. I'm not a doctor and do not have any medical experience, so I apologize if I didn't quite get the reaction right. I had horrible writer's block for this chapter, and then I got an idea for a new scene, and while I was writing that scene, I got an idea for another scene, and this happened. Before all this, it was ~3000 words, now it's over 5000 haha whoops.
> 
> Thank you all so so much for all the support on this fic! I feel like if my writing were a food, it would be a saltine cracker, but it's nice to know that at least some people enjoy it!


	10. we're dodging arrows that we think we see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Happy New Year's Eve! This is a super short chapter, I guess to make up for last week's? But also just because I have the time and motivation to write, but none of the inspiration. So enjoy this early chapter and have a fun and safe NYE!
> 
> Title is from "Villains" by Johnnyswim.

The next day, Peter and Happy headed to meet the group at the school. Peter felt awful. But what was new? The mixture of guilt and nerves for such a big trip tangled in his stomach and made him feel nauseous. 

“You sure you got everything?” Happy asked.

“Yep. I’m good to go.” They pulled into the school parking lot. “Thanks, Happy. I’ll see you in a week-and-a-half.” Peter stepped out of the car and grabbed his suitcase from the trunk, waving goodbye to Happy as he walked up the steps to check in with Mister Harrington. 

He waved over at Ned and MJ as Mister Harrington highlighted his name on a spreadsheet to mark that he checked in. There were only a few more names left to highlight. 

“Hey guys,” Peter walked over to his friends after setting his stuff in the compartment underneath the bus. “Are you ready to do this thing?”

They conversed for a little while, and then Mister Harrington called out, “Okay, everyone, gather ‘round. Everyone’s here, so if you haven’t already loaded your stuff onto the bus, do so now.” While a few outliers loaded their things, a quiet ‘hey MJ’ came from behind them.

Brad Davis approached her and she turned around with a pleasant expression on her face. Not smiling, per se, but definitely not scowling. Brad was supposed to be five years behind them in school, but now they were in the same grade. It always threw Peter off when they would talk with people who should be way younger than them, but now are… not anymore. 

Peter watched the two of them chat for a little while, out of the corner of his eye. She was friendlier than normal, almost nice. _ Maybe she likes him _. Peter thought, but then pushed the thought away. She couldn’t. He brought headphone splitters so that him and MJ could watch a movie together on the plane.

“Peter,” Ned came back from stuffing his bags under the bus and they got in line to load the bus, “We gotta make a plan for you and MJ.” He looked back at her and Brad and Ned gave him a knowing look. “Bro, that’s not good.”

“Look, I _ know _. What do I do?” Ned shrugged. They picked a seat on the bus as the rest of their classmates filed on to the bus to choose their seats.

“You gotta make your _ move_, man. Because it looks like Brad’s already working on it.” He nodded towards Brad and MJ, now sitting next to each other, MJ giggling at something Brad said. MJ giggling. That sentence does not roll off the tongue. Peter leaned his head against the window and Ned put in his earbuds as the bus got moving. 

Maybe if he could spend more time with her than Brad could, he could win her over. Besides, Peter had known MJ for way longer than Brad had. That had to give him some kind of advantage. 

  
  


“Good morning _ bambina _,” Morgan sleepily blinked awake, the hives on her face finally starting to go away. “How do you feel?” Tony took her hand. She was already looking so much better than the day before. Her face was less puffy and the hives were starting to retreat. She slept for most of the day yesterday, waking up to eat and drink, but mostly resting.

Her free hand reached up to scratch at the hives that remained on her face and Tony pushed her hand back down. “It’s really itchy,” Morgan whined, voice hoarse. “I don’t feel good.”

“I know and I’m sorry babe. You’ll start to feel better soon, I promise. Do you want some water?” She nodded and Tony handed her the styrofoam cup from the desk next to her bed. She takes it in her hands and gulps to force the water down her still-swollen throat. “Did you hear what the doctor said yesterday Morguna?” She handed the empty cup to him and shook her head no. “We can go home today!”

“Where’s Petey?” The pit in Tony’s stomach made itself known again. 

“Uncle Happy dropped him off at school to go on his fun trip.” Tony didn’t sleep much. Not necessarily because all he got to sleep on was a lumpy cot (but it definitely didn’t help) but mostly because of the way he’d talked to Peter. He was an idiot. It took so long for Peter to trust Tony as much as he did, and all of it was destroyed in an instant. 

“Oh.” she swallowed painfully. “Could we call him?”

“Sure, but he might be too busy to answer right now.” Tony retrieved his phone from the nightstand on the other side of his cot. A missed call from Pepper and a text from Happy saying that Peter had been dropped off at the school waited for him when he unlocked his phone. He chose Peter’s name and it started ringing. Tony put it on speakerphone so Morgan could hear too. 

Peter picked up on the third ring. The background noise of a crowded bus filled with excited teenagers flooded through Tony’s speaker. “Um, hi Tony,” Peter said, voice quiet. “How is she?”

“She’s doing a lot better, Pete. Say hi, Morguna,” he directed at her and she replied with a hoarse _ ‘hi Petey,’ _

“Hey, Morgs, how do you feel?”

She cleared her throat, “I feel fine. I miss you already.”

“I miss you too. But I’ll be home before you know it.” The knot in Tony’s stomach seemed to grow with every word said. He knew that he had to talk to Peter about what he said. But he had no idea what to say to make up for it. 

The room went quiet for a minute. “Alright Morguna, I’m going to have a little chat with Peter for a minute.” He turned on the TV to a cartoon she liked. “I’ll be right back, okay? Do you need anything?” She shook her head no and Tony turned his phone off speakerphone and walked out of the room. 

“Tony, I am so so so sorry. I know it’s all my fault, and I completely understand if you don’t want m-”

“Peter stop.” Tony cut off Peter’s rambling. “I do not blame you. I know what I said and I completely regret it. I was stressed and scared and it just came out. Not a single part of me meant it, okay? It’s not your fault. Everything is going to be alright. Morgan will be fine. Got it?”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes,”

“Good.” He paused, “I’ll let you go now, you’re probably excited to get off the phone with me and have some fun with your friends. Call or text me anytime if you need anything, okay? I mean it. Have an amazing trip. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Tony hung up. He knew that that phone call didn’t fix anything, but he hoped that it would start to recover their relationship and Peter’s trust. 

He walked back into Morgan’s room to see her, eyelids drooping already while watching her cartoon. He scooted her over on her bed to lay down next to her, Morgan snuggling in under Tony’s arm. “Daddy?” she mumbled, “How long until Petey comes home?”

“Ten sleeps, _ bambina_, just ten sleeps and he’ll be back home.” he felt her nod into his chest as she fell asleep.  
  


Peter and his classmates unloaded the bus in front of the airport, the air filled with pollution from idling cars and humidity and car horns in typical New York fashion. Mister Harrington hearded the students into the airport with all their stuff into the TSA line. 

When Peter reached the front, he put his carry-on on the conveyor belt. After it went into the x-ray machine, the TSA lady pulled it out and unzipped it. On the top of the neatly folded and stacked piles of clothes was his Spiderman suit. _Tony_, Peter realized, _he must have put it in after I was all done packing_. 

He looked up sheepishly at the lady and shrugged, looking around to make sure nobody else saw the suit. She reached underneath the suit and pulled out a banana with a note attached to it. 

_Have fun on your trip, Pete. I thought maybe you could use the suit to impress a special someone. Good luck! - Tony_

The TSA lady scowled, set the note back in the suitcase and closed it, tossing the banana into a trash bin. She set the suitcase back onto the conveyor belt, and it went through without issues this time.

After everyone went through security, they made their way to their gate and compared seats. Brad was completely hovering around MJ. “Peter, look,” Ned held out his ticket in front of Peter’s face. “I’m sitting next to Betty.” Peter looked up at his giddy best friend. “I think I’m finally going to ask her out.”

Peter smiled. He knew that Betty Brant had never shown any interest in dating his best friend, but who was he to tell Ned that? He clapped Ned on the back.

He laughed, “Go for it.”

He felt his phone buzz and pulled it out of his pocket to check the notification. It was a text, from Tony. A selfie of him and Morgan in the hospital, Tony pinching the cord from Morgan’s finger heart rate monitor in between his nose and mouth with a duck face, with the caption, _ We miss you already! Text when you land! _

He turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. He didn’t want to think about that situation right now. He knew what Tony said to be true, even if Tony regretted saying it. It was the truth. Peter should have protected her.

But today wasn’t for feeling bad about yesterday. Today was for spending time with his friends and traveling to Europe.

  
  


A couple hours later, Peter and his class boarded onto the plane to Venice. Much to Peter’s dismay, he was sitting next to Mister Harrington, who was extremely excited about Peter’s headphone splitter. Peter sighed and settled into his seat, letting the older man choose a movie for them to watch. He could already tell it would be a long, long flight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I hardly remember anything from FFH, so these next chapters might be a bit of a stretch...
> 
> But thank you all so so much for reading/kudos-ing/bookmarking/commenting. 2019 was great, but I know 2020 will be even better. Thanks for sticking with me!


	11. où nous sommes n'on pas d'importance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Norm Scully voice* IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING
> 
> I!used!so!many!exclamation!points!in!this!chapter!whoops!
> 
> Title is from "In My Arms" by Johnnyswim.

When the plane landed in Venice, Peter stood up to stretch his legs. Sitting for a long time had never been his cup of tea, but especially not in the middle seat of a cramped airplane.

He looked at where MJ and Brad were sitting. She had fallen asleep on his shoulder, earbuds still in, so he was waking her up.

Man, that could have been him.

He looked over at Ned and Betty, in a similar position. They had fallen asleep on each other, hand-in-hand.  _ Wow _ , he thought,  _ that happened fast _ . 

When everyone had deplaned and grabbed their luggage from the baggage claim, they piled into the tour bus that would take them to their hotel. On the way there, Peter sat next to Ned. 

“Okay, so I think I have a plan.” Peter started. “Tomorrow, I’m going to find a glass jewelry shop and buy a black dahlia necklace for her. It’s her favorite because, well,” 

“Because of the murder.” They finished together.

“Right. Then, when we go to Paris, I’m going to take her to the top of the Eiffel Tower and give it to her.”

“Okay,” Ned said, eyes flicking over to where Betty was sitting. 

“So… what do you think?”

Ned’s attention came back to Peter. “I think that’s an awesome idea. Just make sure that Brad doesn’t get to her first.” Peter looked over at the two of them, neither of them talking, just looking out at Venice at night.

Peter nodded. “So… do you wanna tell me about what happened with Betty?”

Ned smiled. “Well, we were sitting next to each other on the plane, and, y’know, she wasn’t super happy to be sitting next to me, but it actually turns out that we have a lot in common. So, one thing went to the next, and now we’re dating!”

“Wow, that happened really fast. Congrats, bro!”

“Thanks!” The bus pulled into the parking lot of the hotel they were staying at and all of the students filed off the bus, grabbing their room keys from Mister Harrington, who was standing at the front of the bus. 

It was almost midnight, so everyone grabbed their suitcases from under the bus and headed on up to their rooms. 

Peter and Ned were sharing a room, and Ned fell asleep almost before his head hit the pillow, out like a log and snoring. 

Peter stayed up for a little while longer, shooting Tony and Pepper a text to let them know that they’d arrived, and stared at the ceiling for a little while, before eventually drifting off to sleep.

  
  


_ Dust. Turning to dust. Dust in his mouth. Dust in his nose. Dust in his eyes. Nothing. Peter clawed at his face to try and open his eyes but it was still black. Then, vision filled with red sky and red planet and Tony hovering over him as he faded away. “Please,” Peter whined, “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna g-” _

“Peter, wake up!” Ned held him by the shoulders, trying to combat Peter’s thrashing. “Peter, you’re safe! It’s okay!”

Peter gasped for breath. “Ned,” he panted, “I’m sorry.” He glanced at the clock that read 3:54. “I’m sorry. You can go back to sleep. I’m fine.” Peter rubbed his eyes and scooted away from Ned.

“Peter,” Ned said.

“I’m fine, really! Everything is great!” his voice cracked. 

“Don’t lie to me, Peter. People who are fine don’t have nightmares like you just did.” Peter shrugged and looked down at his feet all tangled in the bedsheets. “Tell me the truth, Peter. Have you started therapy yet?”

“No.”

“How often do you get these nightmares?”

“Almost… almost every night.” Peter admitted.

“ _ Peter _ ,”

“I  _ know _ , okay?” he threw his arms up in the air in exasperation. “Tony mentioned getting me a therapist a couple weeks ago, but he hasn’t mentioned anything about it since, so I just figured that I didn’t need it anymore.” Ned put a hand on his shoulder.

“You do need it. You need to talk to him.” Peter shrugged and rubbed his eyes. 

“Maybe.” He turned around and flicked off the lamp. “Goodnight, Ned.”

The next morning, the students had free time before their official tour of the city in the afternoon. Peter and Ned went downstairs to eat breakfast after they’d gotten ready for the day. 

“How are you?” Ned asked Peter as they were heading out. Peter paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’m fine.” he turned around.

“Are you sure? Last night you did  _ not _ seem fine.”

“Really, I am. I’m handling it.” he turned the doorknob, but didn’t open the door quite yet. “Hey man, please don’t tell MJ about that,” he pleaded, “She can’t…” he paused and rubbed his forehead, “She can’t know I’m crazy. Not yet.”

“Peter, you’re not crazy. Mental illness does not make you crazy. Do you understand me?” Peter nodded, but still waited for Ned to answer his question. “I won’t tell her. As long as you do.”

Peter let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Ned gave Peter a tight-lipped smile. The pair walked downstairs and met MJ, who was already down their, sketching a building across the street through the window.

“Morning, MJ.” Peter said.

“Morning,” she mumbled, never looking up from her sketchbook.

Peter looked over her shoulder as Ned dug into the breakfast bar. “That’s really good, MJ.” She looked up and smiled.

“I’ve always really loved the look of Italian architecture.” she went back to drawing, and Peter joined Ned in eating breakfast. Peter was surprised at how none of their other classmates were awake yet. Mister Harrington had told them all last night that they had the morning to themselves and that they could sleep in if they wanted to, but Peter didn’t think anyone would actually choose sleeping in over exploring Venice. 

MJ got up from her window seat and set her sketchbook down at the table next to Ned and Peter and poured herself another cup of coffee. “How long have you been up?” Peter asked her.

She sipped her coffee and sat it town on the table, glancing at her wristwatch. “About an hour.” she answered. “I’m not about to miss out on exploring Venice just to sleep for a little longer.”

“Me too,” Ned agreed, mouth full of eggs. “Who are you rooming with?”

“Betty.” she answered. “So… I hear you two are dating?” She looked at Ned.

He shrugged, grinning ear-to-ear. “We are. It all h-” Their conversation was halted by Mister Harrington clunking down the stairs in the most touristy getup that any of them could imagine. 

“Good morning everyone!” he greeted, the zippers on his fanny pack clinking up against the countertop as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He sat down at an empty seat at the table next to Ned, and pulled his pocketmap out of his fanny pack. “What are you all going to do this morning?” He set the map out on the table and smoothed it out.

“Oh, we don’t really have any specific plans right now.” he hunched over the map, tracing the line of a street with his finger. “What are you doing today?” Peter humored the older man.

“I just want to walk down the historic streets,” he said, pausing to take another sip of his coffee. “I want to see all of it!” he finished off his coffee and set it in an empty dish bin. “Alright, I’m gonna head out. I’ll be around, call me if anything comes up.” He waved goodbye as he pushed open the door and trekked out to see the city. 

“Wow…” MJ said, “He was excited.” Peter nodded and giggled and Ned gave him a side eye, as if to say,  _ Man that was  _ weird.

Peter stopped and finished the rest of his breakfast and set his plate and silverware into the dish bin. He cleared his throat, “So, do you guys want to head out?” A few of their classmates were starting to lazily stumble downstairs and pour themselves cups of coffee. Ned and MJ nodded, setting their dishes into the bin, and the trio went upstairs to grab the things they needed for the day.

As Peter was packing his backpack for the day, he paused when he found his suit in his suitcase. As a last-minute decision, he decided to bring it with him. It would be better for him to bring it with him wherever he went than for some cleaning lady to find it when their room was serviced. He stuffed it into the bottom of his pack and turned to Ned. “Ready?”

“Yep!” Ned replied and they met MJ in the hall, now sans sketchbook.

Peter’s stomach flipped when he looked at her. “You okay?” she asked and Peter realized that he had stopped in his tracks. 

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I’m great, thanks. How are you?” Ned snorted and Peter glared at him.

“I’m… I’m good?” The trio stood in awkward silence for a moment before MJ said, “So, are we going to go?”

“Please!” Ned cried, leading the charge to get away from the awkward moment. “Also, I texted Betty to see if she would join us. I hope you all don’t mind.”

Peter and MJ shared a glance of  _ This is not going to last _ and giggled.   
  


“So where are we going?” Betty asked as they left the hotel. 

Ned grabbed her hand. “I think we should go down by the canals first.” He looked back at Peter and MJ.

“That sounds fine to me,” MJ said.

“Alright, to the canals it is!”

“Ooh babe, maybe we could ride a gondola today!” Betty said. Out of the corner of his eye, Peter spotted a glass jewelry shop. 

“Uh, hey guys, I’m going to go to the men’s room. You go on without me, I’ll catch up with you after.”

“Okay. We’ll meet back up with you at the gondolas. Be quick!” Ned said.

Peter walked over to the shop and the door was held open for him by a man in a floral button-down and a dark-blue baseball cap. “ _ Grazie _ ,” Peter said, and the man nodded and walked in behind him.

Peter looked all around him, standing in the doorway for a moment, trying to take it all in. The midmorning sun streamed through the windows and hit the glass jewelry just so, so that little rainbow prisms were projected all over the shop. “ _ Buongiorno. Posso aiutarla _ ?” 

“ _ Sì. Hai una collana di dahlia nera _ ?”

“ _ Sì _ .” the shopkeeper handed him a necklace made of black glass, “ _ Ecco qui _ ,”

Peter held it in his hand and admired it. “ _ È bellissimo! Grazie _ .” Peter handed over the money for the necklace and slipped it into his backpack, wrapped in the extra t-shirt he had packed, the shopkeeper wishing him  _ ‘buona giornata’ _ on his way out. 

He met the others in front of the gondolas as promised. They were chatting with Mister Harrington, whose skin was already tinged pink, despite the giant floppy sun hat he was wearing. He was rattling off facts about Venice that he had definitely learned in a Rick Steves travel book to the group, eliciting a few yawns. “... actually, these gondolas have speed limits, and they have speed cameras set up all along these canals,”

“Hey guys,” Peter hooked his thumbs to the straps of his backpack, “what’s up?”

“Mister Harrington was just entertaining us with some  _ fascinating  _ facts about Venice,” Betty said, accompanied with a subtle eye-roll when the teacher wasn’t looking. 

“Ohhh, I see.” Peter said. “How about this one: did you know that the first woman to graduate from college was from Venice?” he directed at Mister Harrington.    


He shook his head no, but MJ piped up, “Elena Lucrezia Cornaro. An icon.” 

“Wow, I didn’t think anyone would know that. Nice job.” he offered her a fistbump and she reluctantly returned the gesture. 

“Academic decathlon 2024 is going to be awesome!” Ned exclaimed and the group nodded in agreement as the gondolier docked the boat and beckoned for them to board. When everyone was on the boat, they all sat back to enjoy the ride as the gondolier began his serenade. 

  
  
The rest of the day went by quickly, passing by in almost a blur. At the end of the day, before Peter and Ned decided to hit the hay, Tony sent a video with the caption ‘We miss you! Hope you’re having fun!’ Peter opened the video.

_ “Hey Morguna,” Tony got Morgan’s attention and she stood still for a moment. “Say hi to Petey!” _

_ “Hi Petey!” Morgan hopped from foot on the grey sectional couch in the living room of the cabin. “I miss you!” Tony turned the phone around to show his face. _

_ “We love you! Send a text when you get to Paris tomorrow!” The screen went black. _

“Dude. Did Iron Man just send you a… vlog?” Peter smiled and rolled his eyes. He shoved everything into his suitcase and zipped it up. 

The group was going to be driving through the night to Paris so they could sleep through the eleven-hour drive. The two of them grabbed the rest of their things from the room and dragged their suitcases down to the bus. They cached their things underneath the vehicle and filed in to their seats. 

Everyone was pretty worn out from the day, Peter included. Most of them drifted off to sleep, but Peter, among a few others stayed on their phones for a little while before succumbing to their exhaustion. Peter replied to Tony’s video with a photo that he took from the gondolas earlier. After that, Peter let his head hang and eyelids droop as he drifted off to sleep.   
  


Soft sunlight streamed through the windows of the bus, landing on the sleepy students. Peter yawned and looked out the window as they were arriving in Paris. 

The bus driver parked in front of their hotel, and everyone lazily stumbled off the bus, pillows and blankets in hand, grabbing their room keys from Mister Harrington to walk upstairs to their rooms to set their stuff in. 

After everyone had gotten all ready, they headed out to explore Paris. Ned, Betty, MJ, and Peter met in the lobby of the hotel. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m  _ starving _ .”

“Me too. We should go eat breakfast over there.” MJ nodded her head toward a small corner cafe across the street. 

“ _ Oh la la! _ I’ve always wanted to eat in a real French cafe!” Betty exclaimed.

The four of them chose a table outside and sat down to wait for the server.

“Oh no,” Ned said quietly as the server approached their table.

“What is it?” Betty asked.

“I was just thinking… does anyone here speak French?”

“ _ Bonjour à tous. Est-ce que vous avez décidé en quoi d’ordre? _ ” the server asked.

“ _ Ah, _ ” MJ looked around at the group’s terrified faces. ” _ Un moment, s’il vous plaît. _ ”

“I didn’t know you spoke French!” Ned said. “That’s so cool!” 

“What do you guys want to eat?” MJ asked them.

“I’ll take two chocolate croissants please, and a hot chocolate.” Peter said.

“Ooh, I’ll take a ham and cheese croissant, and a coffee.” Betty said.

“Me too.” Ned agreed, smiling at his girlfriend.

“ _ D’accord. Donnez moi une croque madame avec l’eau, deux pains au chocolat, un chocolat chaud, deux croissants de jambon et fromage, et deux cafés, s’il vous plaît. _ ” The server wrote down their orders and turned to walk away. “ _ Merci! _ ” MJ called out after her.

“MJ, that was  _ so cool _ .” Ned said. “How long have you been studying French for?”

“About five years.” She shrugged. “Not very long.” The four of them settled in, watching people walk by on the street. The server walked back, balancing all of their orders on a big tray. Peter took a picture of his breakfast and sent it to Tony before digging in.

Once everyone had their stomachs filled, MJ raised her hand to get the attention of their server, who was just walking by their table. “ _ Excusez-moi, madame? _ ”

“ _ Oui? _ ” the server pulled out her pen and notebook.

“ _ L’addition, s’il vous plaît. _ ”

“ _ Ah, oui. Un moment. _ ”

When she returned with their check, everyone paid their share and MJ handed it back to their server. “ _ Merci beaucoup! _ ”

“ _ Merci à vous. _ ” the server returned the gratitude.

“Alright,” MJ said as they walked away from the cafe, “What now?”

Peter looked up at the Eiffel Tower. That was the night. That was the night that he would give MJ her necklace, on top of the Eiffel Tower. Butterflies danced in his stomach at the thought. 

“Well, we have a museum tour in an hour, so we should probably stay close. Maybe we should just walk around and go inside some of the shops around here. Save our energy for the museums later.” Peter suggested.

The group agreed, and the rest of the day was spent exploring the cobblestone streets and breathtaking museums of Paris.

“Hey, MJ, wait up.” Peter said.

“Yeah?”

“Is there anything going on with you and Brad?”

MJ scoffed. “No, we’re friends, and that’s it.”   


“Oh, good. In that case, do you wanna…” Peter stumbled over his words. “Hang out tonight?”

“To do what?”

“You’ll see…” Peter smiled.

“What time?”

“Eight? Then we’ll have time to get back to the hotel and then sneak back out.” He chuckled.

“Eight it is.” MJ agreed, turning to catch back up to the group.    
  


Their museum tour had just ended, and they had gotten dinner at a tiny sandwich shop. It wasn’t very late, but it had been a long day, so they were all settling in to their rooms for the night, in preparation for another packed day the next day. 

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening.” Peter said as he buttoned up his shirt.

“Me either.” Ned replied.

“Hey…” Peter said, looping a navy-blue tie around his neck, “Do you know how to tie a tie?” Ned shook his head, and Peter sighed, falling back onto his bed.

“I’m gonna go hang out with Betty. Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks dude. I’ll see you later tonight to tell you about how it goes.” With that, Ned left, closing the door behind him. 

Peter pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, hovering his finger over Tony’s but ultimately choosing Pepper. It rang three times before she picked up.

“Hey Peter, is everything alright?” Pepper asked.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s great. Is this a bad time? I know it’s really late.”

“No worries, Peter. I’m actually in the air right now. I’m going home early.” 

“That’s great!” he paused.

“Are… are you sure everything’s alright?”

“Yeah, I… actually I have a date tonight.” Peter smiled.

“That’s great! With who?”

“Her name’s MJ. She’s the captain of the academic decathlon team.”

“Good for her. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“It really is. She’s incredible. The only problem is… well-uh, I don’t know how to tie a tie.” a beat of silence followed. “May tried to teach me the night of homecoming, but that… didn’t go so well. So I guess what I’m asking is, will you teach me how to tie a tie?”

“Of course I will!” Pepper responded. “First you take the thick end and cross it in front of the skinny end and then pass it back behind the skinny end. Then you bring the thick end back in front of the skinny end again.” Peter’s fingers clumsily followed her instructions. “Now you pass the thick end over again, and slip your finger under the third horizontal loop.” Peter did as instructed. “Now you take the thick end and feed it up, over, and through the loop you put your finger through. Pull it down, adjust, and your done!” 

Peter did as he was told, and the knot around his neck more resembled a tie than any of the other knots he’d tied in his lifetime. “Thanks so much, Pepper. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem at all, Peter. I couldn’t tell you how many times I had to walk Tony through tying his own tie.” she laughed. “I’ll let you go. Good luck on your date tonight! I want to hear every detail when you get back.”

“Will do. Talk to you later.” he hung up. He got up and walked out the door to MJ and Betty’s room. It was finally happening!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, my personal headcanon is that Peter speaks Italian and MJ speaks French because WE STAN MULTILINGUALISM.
> 
> Full disclosure, I still have NO idea how to tie a tie. whoops.
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading! I would love to hear what y'all think of this chapter. You guys are the best!!


	12. what a wicked thing to do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Happy Saturday!
> 
> I'm so excited to announce... The Good Part™ is finally here.
> 
> Check the endnotes for trigger warnings and a chapter summary. These next few chapters are going to be pretty heavy, so take care of yourselves! I'll tell you everything important that happens in the chapter in the endnotes in case you don't think you can read the chapter for yourself. Stay safe lovelies!
> 
> Title is from "Wicked Game" by Johnnyswim.

Peter took a deep breath and knocked on MJ’s door. The time was now. She answered with a sly smile and quietly closed it behind her. He hooked his thumb on the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder. One thing that he had read on almost every travel advice website and blog was to always carry a bag with everything that you needed in it, that was also difficult to pick-pocket out of. 

“Hey,” Peter said. She was wearing a light, flowery dress and had her hair pinned back away from her face. “You look really pretty...” He stood up on his toes and rocked back onto his heels. 

“And therefore I have value?”

“No-no, I didn’t mea-” He rushed to fill the silence and clarify what he meant.

“I’m messing with you.” She flashed a quick smile. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You look… pretty, too.” they waited for a few moments before MJ took a step out of the doorway and closed the door behind her. “So, are we going to go?”

“Oh! Yeah, let’s go,” Peter blushed, following MJ as she started to walk down the hall to the lobby of the hotel. 

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” MJ asked Peter.

“I was thinking we could take a walk… maybe up to see the top of the Eiffel Tower?”

“That sounds good to me.” They walked the rest of the way out of the hotel, for fear of disturbing any of their classmates who might snitch on them. Technically, what they were doing against the rules and would earn a phone call and a plane ride home if they were caught, but neither of them were planning on being caught. 

Even after all this time he could have spent planning the moment and every one of it’s details out, Peter still had no idea how he was planning on presenting the necklace to her. All he had in his mind was a rough outline of how the night would go, starting with them walking down moonlit Parisian streets to the Eiffel Tower, and ended with them walking back down the moonlit Parisian streets, hand-in-hand this time, black dahlia necklace around MJ’s neck. 

A couple blocks down, Peter started to get a couple whiffs of something absolutely _ putrid_. He felt a gag rising up in his throat, but he pushed it back down, trying to somehow discreetly hold his hand in front of his nose to block the scent. 

Lavender. 

He’d gotten used to the scent, for the most part. Tony still used lavender laundry detergent, and Peter never told him that it made him want to throw up every time he put on a clean shirt, so it just kept happening. Eventually he built up some kind of tolerance to the scent, but too much of it often caught Peter off-guard.

“Do you smell that?” Peter asked MJ.

“Smell what?” she sniffed. “Lavender?” Peter nodded and bent over, putting his forearms on his knees to try and quell the nausea rising in him. The back of his neck prickled like it did when he was on patrol, so long ago. “Hey, did you know that plague doctors would stuff their masks full of lavender so they wouldn’t have to smell the death on their patients?” 

“No I didn’t know tha-” his hand flew up to cover his mouth as his dinner threatened to make a reappearance. He ripped off his backpack and extended it to MJ. “Could you please hold that? Thanks.” he said as he practically sprinted into an alleyway, where his stomach heaved until it was empty. When he thought it was over, he straightened out again and walked back over to MJ, who was holding out a pack of Altoids.

“So, you don’t like lavender?” Peter graciously took the mints, rinsing his mouth out with water and then popping three mints in his mouth. 

“MJ, there’s something I have to tell you.” he paused. He really didn’t mean to tell her this so early, but it would make the whole puking-his-guts-out-after-smelling-lavender thing a lot easier to explain. “I…”

“... am Spiderman?” she finished for him, raising her eyebrows.

“What, no! Why would yo-” he sighed, “How did you know?”

‘It wasn’t _ that _ hard to figure ou-” the back of Peter’s neck flared in warning and every hair on his body stood on edge as she was cut off by a feathered dart in her neck. She stiffened, and immediately fell over, rigid body slumped over Peter's backpack. 

Peter whipped around, looking for their assailants. All of the sudden, a thick mist fell over the street, so thick that Peter couldn’t see anything. He felt a prick at his neck and reached up to feel a dart protruding from his body. He yanked it out to get a closer look at it, vision blurring and dimming, and felt two more identical pricks. Before he could even take two more steps, he was out cold. 

  
  


The cobblestones were cool on MJ’s cheek when she woke up, facedown on the street. She sat up and her head pounded. She took a couple deep breaths as she waited for the throbbing to subside and found something sticking out of her neck. It was cool-- metal? She pulled it out and saw that it was a dart and everything that had happened the night before came flooding back to her. 

A date. With Peter. Lavender? Peter puking. Spiderman. Then nothing.

She looked on the ground next to her, and found Peter’s backpack still there even after the night. Wait.

Peter.

Where is he?

She looked around, searching for him, but there was nothing. She got up and began to call out, trying her best to ignore her head and the fact that her world was spinning so badly she might collapse. “Peter?” tentatively at first, then louder and more urgent. “Peter, this is not funny. Where are you?”

This was not like him. He would never hide from her like this. So then what was happening? She clutched at her head as she bent over to pick up his backpack.

She needed to tell someone. Peter was gone. The empty Parisian street that should have been such an ethereal place was quickly becoming nightmarish. She began to run, as fast as her head would allow, to get back to the hotel. She glanced at her wristwatch. 6:52 AM. She burst through the doors of the hotel and found the students and chaperones huddled around a small TV in the lobby. She pushed closer, through all of the students who were watching the screen, faces shocked, until she was finally able to see the screen.

Peter. She found him.

He sat there, against a grey background, bound and gagged in a metal chair. Unconscious? Her brain couldn’t form cohesive thoughts and she felt her legs give out and other students caught her as she fell and helped her to the floor. She heard Mister Harrington at the back of the group, “No, not again. Not again. Not again.” and then a hard slap. 

“Pull yourself together!” Mister Dell practically shouted at Mister Harrington. Most of the students were looking at them now. “All of you, go to your rooms until we come get you.” The students all complied, and MJ felt gentle hands around her arms, helping her up.

Betty and Ned guided her up to her and Betty’s room and sat her down on the bed.

She started to shiver, and tears started leaking from her eyes. She pressed her knuckles to her eye sockets, trying to stem the flow of tears. She wasn’t normally like this. So why was she now? She put her head in her hands and let herself cry as Ned and Betty rubbed her back and whispered reassurances to her.

“It’s going to be okay. It’ll all be okay. Let it out.” Betty said, but MJ almost laughed at her. How would everything be okay? Peter had been _ kidnapped_. Nothing would be okay. 

They guided her to the bathroom, and helped her climb into the tub, leaving the room as she put the plug in and turned the water on. She sat in the half-filled tub, letting the warmth surround her before peeling off her wet dress, dropping it outside the tub and letting it _plop_ on the tile floor. She soaked until the water turned cold, then slowly climbed out of the tub, pounding head beginning to ease. She changed into more comfortable clothes and met Ned and Betty where they were sitting on one of the beds. 

“So…” MJ sat down on the bed next to Betty. “What happened?” Ned asked her. Her pounding headache had mostly resolved into a dull ache at the base of her skull and she sipped water from the water bottle they'd gotten for her. 

“I don’t know.” She twisted the lid on her water bottle and set it beside her. “We were walking, and then, all of the sudden, somebody tranqued me and I passed out. I don’t remember anything after that. Just waking up and coming back here.” she rubbed at the tension in her neck.

“Any idea who it was or where they might have taken him?” Betty asked and MJ shook her head no. 

“No. But I’m almost positive that they chose him because of his new family.” 

All three of their phones vibrated after she said that. A text from Mister Harrington, “EVERYBODY PACK YOUR THINGS, WE’RE FLYING HOME TODAY. MEET IN THE LOBBY IN 30 MINUTES.” 

“His phone!” MJ remembered. “Maybe he still has it on him!” She unzipped his backpack with haste and tore through its contents, careful not to reveal the red spandex suit stuffed at the bottom. To her dismay, his phone was tucked underneath a grey t-shirt that made a tinkling noise when she moved it. She pulled out the shirt and opened it up to find a chain with fragmented black glass around it. 

“Peter got you that. It was supposed to be a black dahlia. He thought you would like it because of the murder.” MJ held it carefully in her hands and it glittered in the sunlight.

“It must have gotten broken when I fell on his backpack.” Ned nodded and sighed and left to go to his own room. She set the broken necklace on her bed and packed her things, setting the pieces of her gift in last, ensuring their safety on the trip home.

When MJ and Betty had packed all their things, they walked down to the lobby in silence. Mister Harrington and Mister Dell had already packed their things and were now talking with a couple French police officers. When MJ came downstairs, Mister Harrington pointed her out to the officers. “There she is.”

They approached her. “Hello, Michelle,” they greeted her in heavily-accented English.

“_Bonjour messieurs,_” she greeted back.

“_Ah, tu parles le français?_” (Oh, you speak French?)

“_Oui, un peu. Peux-je vous aide?_” (Yes, a little. Can I help you?)

“_Oui. Ces hommes nous ont dit que tu étais avec Monsieur Parker quand il était kidnappé?_” (Yes. Those men told us that you were with Mister Parker when he was kidnapped?)

“_Oui, c’est vrai._” (Yes, this is true.) she answered. Her stomach knotted itself.

“_Est-ce que tu peux nous dites qu’est qui s’a passé, s’il te plaît?_” (Can you please tell us what happened?)

“_Ben ouais, je suppose. Nous allions à un rendez-vous, et soudainement ça sentait comme la lavande, donc et il était malade. Je ne sais pas qu’est qui s’a passé prochain, pas vraiment._” (Well yeah, I suppose. We were going on a date, and suddenly it smelled like lavender, so he got sick. I don’t know what happened next, not really.) The officers scribbled in their notebooks.

“_Ben, qu’est que tu souviens?_” (Well, what do you remember?)

“_Il y a eu du brouillard, et,_” (There was fog, and,) she rubbed her temples, “_et, oh, qu’est que c’est en français? C’est, c’est, oh!_” (and, oh, what is it in French? It’s, it’s, oh!) she remembered. “_Les fléchettes. Ils me faisaient dormir. Je ne souviens rien plus. Juste me réveille en la rue ce matin._” (Darts. They made me sleep. I don’t remember anything else. Just waking up in the street this morning.) Her headache was starting to return with force and she took a deep breath.

“_Ah, merci Mademoiselle. Nous avons tout l’information qu’est nécessaire. Au revoir._” (Oh, thank you Miss. We have all the information that’s necessary. Goodbye.) She sat down and Betty stood next to her, rubbing her shoulders as they waited for the others to come down with their suitcases. 

“You did great, MJ. You did great.” Betty comforted.

  
  


Happy opened the car door and Pepper stepped out. “Thanks, Happy.” she said, and she walked up the steps to the front door, pushing it open to see Morgan and Tony sitting at the counter island eating their bedtime snack. 

“Mommy!” Morgan hopped off her stool and ran into Pepper’s open arms. 

“Hey sweetheart, how are you?”

“I’m good.” Pepper stood up and Tony waited his turn to hug her. 

“Hey Pep, we missed you. So glad you’re home. How was your flight?”

“It was good, nothing really new to report."

"Well, that's good." She rolled her suitcase into their bedroom and took a shower, scrubbing the past few weeks of travel from her body, and changed into sweats. When she came back out, Tony and Morgan were still sitting at the kitchen island finishing up their snack.

"So Peter's eighteenth birthday is coming up next month right?" Tony nodded, "We have to do something big. He probably hasn't had a super big birthday party before, so I was thinking that we have to make a big deal out of i-“ she was cut off by the noise of Tony’s phone ringing. He looked at his phone and looked back up at Pepper, eyebrows furrowed. 

“It’s from one of Peter’s teachers, I better take this. I'll be right back.” He walked off to the living room and looked out the windows to answer the phone. 

“How are you feeling, Morgan? Did you have fun with Daddy and Petey?” Pepper leaned against the counter as she took another bite of her apple slices. 

“Yeah, but I miss him.”

“Me too-“

“What is it? What’s going on?” Tony asked, voice rising. 

Tony’s phone dropped to the floor and the rest of him quickly followed. “Daddy?” Morgan asked. “Daddy?”

Pepper rushed over to kneel by his side. “Hey, hey. Are you okay?” She whispered close to his ear. She knew that it was better not to overwhelm him in these situations. 

“I’m going to be sick,” he covered his mouth with his hand and ran over to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet, stomach clenching to empty itself of every last bit of food he had in him. 

Pepper picked up Tony’s now-cracked phone. “Hello? This is Pepper Potts, what’s going on?”

“Mommy?” Morgan called, fear in her voice. 

“Hello Pepper, I have some bad news. I believe it would be best if you sat down for this.” The man’s voice wavered. 

“I’m sitting.” She covered the phone with her hand. “Morgan, go wait in your room for Mommy, okay?” The little girl nodded, lower lip trembling, and followed Pepper’s instructions. 

“Peter has been…” the voice took a shaky breath, “Peter has been kidnapped and we believe is being held for ransom. 

Pepper sat in stunned silence. “No.” she whispered. “No, no! How could you let this happen?”

“We believe that Peter and one of his classmates snuck out last night, and that’s when he was taken. We have alerted the authorities, and they have their best personnel working on bringing Peter home. Peter’s kidnappers have put up a livestream online. The authorities have eyes on it at all times, to see if anything changes and are working on getting a location from the feed. I’ll send you the link to the stream.”

_ We believe that Peter and one of his classmates snuck out last night. _ Peter’s date. _ This is all your fault. _“We are bringing the rest of the students back to the US, and we are on a time crunch. We are deeply sorry about this.” When he was met once again with Pepper’s stunned silence, he hung up, leaving Pepper sitting on the hardwood floor alone. 

It took everything in her to rise from the floor and be with Tony. She needed to be strong right now, for him. He needed her to be strong. Even though she was choking down tears herself, she had to be strong. Just like she was the first time Peter was lost. But it wasn’t _ fair_. Peter was her kid, too. She loved him. She loved him so so much.

Tony brushed his teeth. He was done wallowing in his self pity. Pepper needed him to be strong. For her. Just like how she had been when Peter died on Titan. Pepper appeared by his side, rubbing his back in small circles.

“Hey,” Pepper said. He pulled her in for a hug and the two of them stood there like that, both of them clinging to the other for dear life, salty tears running tracks down their faces and dripping down onto the other’s clothes. 

When they had cried all of their tears, they moved to the kitchen table. “What do we do now?” Tony asked. She always knew exactly what to do.

She grabbed Tony’s phone and began making a list in his notes, ignoring the text from Peter’s teacher with the link to Peter’s livestream. “First, we need to have FRIDAY analyze all of the footage of Paris available to look for where Peter may have been taken. And…” she looked up at Tony, “The livestream of him. To decrypt it and figure out where it is coming from, and to make sure that nothing changes, in terms of Peter’s safety and his ransom.” Tony looked visibly sick.

“There’s…” he swallowed bile rising in his throat again, “there’s a livestream?” Pepper bit her bottom lip and nodded. “FRIDAY, get on that.”

“Yes, Boss.” FRIDAY replied.

“Next, we have to talk to the Parisian authorities to see what measures they’ve taken alread-” There was a knock on the door and Happy burst in.

“What’s going on? Is everyone okay?” He asked, out of breath.

“Happy, what are you doing here?” Tony asked.

“Morgan had FRIDAY text me. She said something happened and that I needed to come back.”

“Come here and sit down,” Pepper said and Happy pulled out a chair at the table. “Peter was kidnapped while on his trip. In Paris.” 

“Oh my g-” he covered his mouth with his hand. “Is he okay? What can I do to help?”

“Actually, it would be wonderful if you could contact the authorities in Paris who are working on the case and see what measures they’ve been taking to find him.”

“I can do that.” Happy pulled out his phone and started dialing a number.

“Thank you.” Pepper said. “The next thing we need to do is alert all of the Avengers-- they don’t even need to be Avengers. If they’re on our side, they should know and be on the ground searching if they are able to.”

Tony pulled out his phone and put everyone who he thought would be there to help him in a group chat. “PETER IS MISSING.” The text read. “HE WAS KIDNAPPED IN PARIS. CALL ME IF YOU CAN HELP ME FIND HIM.” he set his phone face down on the table. 

“And the next thing…” Pepper paused. “The next thing is to look at the livestream. If you want to. To make sure that Peter’s safe and that there’s no ransom offer posted yet. But FRIDAY’s already doing that, so you wouldn’t have to if you don’t think you could handle it.” her voice quieted and she laid her hand on top of Tony’s and they listened to Happy trying to communicate with the French officers in very fragmented French.

“I think… I think I need to see it.” Pepper nodded and he opened the link on his phone, all the breath in his lungs sucked out when he saw Peter appear on the screen, tied up and unconscious. The tears that he’d been trying to hold at bay now burst through their dam and he saw that Pepper was crying too. 

He put his arm around her and leaned close so their foreheads were touching. “We’re going to get him back. We have to.”

Pepper nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to clear them of tears. She cleared her throat. “And up, the next thing.” She leaned back to look Tony in the eyes. “The next thing that we have to do is be strong for Morgan. Pretend that everything is going to be alright. For her. She’s scared out of her mind right now-- we all are. But she can’t know about Peter. Not yet.”

He grabbed her hand, and put his phone in his pocket. She followed him into Morgan’s bedroom and shut the door behind them. Morgan was sitting at her little table coloring and jumped when she heard the door open.

“Mommy! Daddy! What’s happening?” her doe-eyes shone with tears that were about to fall and Tony knew that she could see the tears behind his. Pepper knelt by her on the floor and held her, stroking her soft hair and rocking back and forth. Tony knelt by them, too, joining in on the hug. 

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Pepper whispered into Morgan’s ear. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: tranquilizer darts (are those a thing?), kidnapping
> 
> Chapter summary: Peter and MJ finally go on their date that Peter's been planning on for so long. But all good things have to end, some sooner than later. Peter and MJ are drugged before they can even get off the street their hotel is on. When MJ wakes up, she runs back to the hotel and finds the rest of the group watching a livestream of Peter tied up in a chair. Cuts to Pepper returning home from her trip and Tony getting a phone call from Mister Harrington saying that Peter had been kidnapped. Tony texts the rest of the Avengers about bringing Peter home and him and Pepper put on a brave face for Morgan.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think!


	13. when i get you i won't let you go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, happy Saturday!
> 
> Like I said last week, trigger warnings and the chapter summary will be in the endnotes. Stay safe!
> 
> Title is from "Pay Dearly" by Johnnyswim.

Peter opened his eyes and tried to blink away the blurriness. It was cold. So cold. Bone-chilling cold. Peter’s jaw trembled but his teeth didn’t clack together. Why didn’t his teeth chatter? His mouth felt so dry. Almost like… there was a towel in his mouth. A gag? So he didn’t scream? It took all the energy Peter had to raise his head, and when he did so he found a little camera on top of a tripod with a blinking red light at the top. He tried to stand up but he couldn’t move, why couldn’t he move? Even just from that little bit of energy expelled, he was exhausted. His eyelids drooped and everything faded to black.  
  


The next time he woke up, he was a little bit more lucid. He took catalog of himself and made sure that he wasn’t injured anywhere. He couldn’t feel any injuries, but the room was so cold that his body was going numb. He was so thirsty. And hungry. When was the last time he’d had anything to eat or drink? He looked around the room for a window, but there was none. Was it day? Was it night? Peter didn’t know and he hung his head, eyelids drooping again. Why was it so hard to stay awake? Everything faded to black.   
  


The next time he woke up, he woke up gasping. Water. Water on his face. Why? Water on his face, water in his hair, water soaking through his clothes, _ cold _.

“Hey!” a slap across the face. “Wake up!” Peter shivered. It was _ so cold_. The only thing stopping his teeth from chattering was the towel in his mouth, but it didn’t stop his jaw from painfully contracting in lieu of chattering. The man looked so familiar. Why?

He turned to the camera. “Hello everyone, I know you’re all watching this, and you’re probably scared for Peter’s precious life.” he laughed. Maniacally. Why did the man look so famili- oh. The man from the glass shop in Venice. What did he want with Peter? Maybe he found out that Tony adopted him?

“My name is Quentin Beck.” he paced behind Peter, Peter thrashing in his chair to keep an eye on him, but ultimately failing against the restraints. “But you may remember me as the guy who created Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or BARF, as you call it. My whole life’s work. And you stole it from me and named it BARF? How did you not expect something bad to come from that?” 

He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and Peter shuddered. “Now, here’s the deal.” He stooped over really low so he was talking next to Peter’s ear. Peter tried to slam his head into the side of his face but Beck dodged it. “Tony Stark will wire me every penny that BARF has earned him, plus a little extra for the life of his boy.” He squeezed Peter’s shoulder and it made Peter want to throw up. “Altogether, that comes to one billion dollars. Not so much, is it mister genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist? Am I forgetting anything else? Oh yeah, _ father_.”

He removed his hand from Peter’s shoulder and walked around in front of him, closer to the camera. “To make sure that you’re taking me seriously enough, I’ve decided to do something…” he walked back behind Peter, out of sight from the camera and grabbed something, tossing it up in his hand as he walked back over to the front of the camera.

Peter’s stomach dropped when he saw what was in his hand.

A hammer. 

Beck walked back over to Peter and ripped the gag out of his mouth, jaw almost locked around the material.

“Hey!” Peter forced out, voice hoarse from disuse. “Hey, y-y-you don’t have to do this, okay? You can work something out! You can work something out!” Beck started to approach Peter and his pleas got even more urgent. “No! Please no! I know that BARF was your idea, okay? I know that you think it was stolen from you! It sucks, I’m sorry, but,” Beck raised his arm and brought down the hammer on Peter’s right kneecap. 

_ CRACK _

Red, hot pain radiated from Peter’s knee and a broken sob was ripped from his throat. He pulled at the restraints on his wrists and ankles to try and relieve some of the pain, but it was useless. He gasped for breath and a layer of sweat broke out on his forehead, despite the freezing temperatures.

Through the haze of pain, Peter could hear Beck talking, now directly to the camera. “I know you’re watching this Stark. And you know what you need to do.” _ And then he turned the camera off_.

Before, Peter at least knew that other people could see what was happening to him, but now… now nobody could see him. He was completely alone with this psychopath. 

He turned back to Peter and stooped to eye-level. “And before you start to wonder,” he hissed, “I know about your little secret.”

“I,” Peter panted, face scrunched in pain, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His vision was beginning to blur and he spoke through clenched teeth. 

“Oh, yes you do,” he clucked his tongue against his teeth, “Guy in a red spandex suit, swinging around New York City fighting crime?”

“No- I’m not- How do you know about that?”

“Stark probably never told you about the data breach that happened right after the Snap. Released the names and clearance levels of all of the SI employees-- even the interns.” Peter was shaking now, every bit of him fighting to stay awake, but the pain was starting to really get to him.

“And I thought to myself,” Beck stroked his chin, “_Why _ on earth would an intern have such a high clearance level?” he placed his hand on Peter’s injured knee and every muscle in Peter’s body convulsed. “Did you like the lavender? I thought it was a nice touch.” Beck’s words barely reached Peter as everything faded to black.

  
  


“_Okay, so the authorities in Paris haven’t done much,_” Happy’s voice came through the speakers in the kitchen. Pepper was with Morgan, helping her get packed to go back to the Tower. She and Tony had already packed all their things the night before. Tony had had to pack all of Peter’s things he’d left at the cabin before going to Europe. It was hard. It felt the same way it did when he was dead. Morgan still didn’t know about the whole situation. Tony didn’t know how they would tell her. “_They’ve been keeping an eye on the livestream, and that’s about it. No ground-searches, no successful tracking efforts, no nothing._” He’d driven back to the city late the night before to get better cell reception. 

Tony sighed and rubbed his forehead. “When we get to the city, I’m going to organize a meeting with the other Avengers and get a ground-search effort organized.”

“_Okay. I have a phone conference with the FBI starting in a couple minutes. I gotta go._” He paused for a moment. “_We’re gonna get him back, got it?_”

“Got it.” He massaged his jaw.

“Boss, there’s been a change in the livestream,” FRIDAY said.

“I’ve gotta go, too. Thanks, Hap.” He hung up. “Okay, FRI, pull up the livestream.”

“_My name is Quentin Beck._” the man walked back and forth behind Peter, who was thrashing against his shackles to keep an eye on him, but ultimately gave up. The man looked familiar to Tony, but he couldn’t tell from where. “_But you may remember me as the guy who created Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, or BARF, as you call it. My whole life’s work. And you stole it from me and named it BARF? How did you not expect something bad to come from that?_” 

“_Now, here’s the deal._” He put his hand on Peter’s shoulder and Peter tried to headbutt him, Beck deftly dodging his attempted attack.“_Tony Stark will wire me every penny that BARF has earned him, plus a little extra for the life of his boy_. _ Altogether, that comes to one billion dollars. Not so much, is it mister genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist? Am I forgetting anything else? Oh yeah, father._”

He removed his hand from Peter’s shoulder and walked around in front of him, closer to the camera. “_To make sure that you’re taking me seriously enough, I’ve decided to do something…_” Tony’s stomach twisted and he felt like he was going to be sick. Beck tore the gag from Peter’s mouth, the action moving Peter’s whole body.

_ “Hey, y-y-you don’t have to do this, okay? You can work something out! You can work something out!” _

Tony knew what was going to happen before it did. He had always had that special bit of intuition that helped him in situations like this. But now, it made him sick.

_ “No! Please no! I know that BARF was your idea, okay? I know that you think it was stolen from you! It sucks, I’m sorry, but,” _The hammer came down hard on Peter’s right knee, landing with a loud cracking noise.

Peter’s sob echoed throughout the building, now eerily quiet, void of Peter’s desperate rambling, except for his small whimpers and Beck’s footsteps toward the camera. 

_ “I know you’re watching this, Stark. And you know what you need to do.” _Beck reached up and turned the camera off, plunging the stream into darkness.

He remembered Beck. He’d always tried to take credit for Tony’s ideas that he’d collaborated with him on. He’d helped with BARF. But when he started to go off the deep end, he’d been fired. 

SI couldn’t have an employee gone mad on their record. 

_ How dare he. _

Tony didn’t know how to react. He was mad. He was scared, _ terrified _ . He was guilty. Why should Peter, his _ kid _, have to go through this because of him? Because he didn’t know how to go about letting an employee go?

He gripped the back of one of the dining room chairs and stared into the still-black screen. What was he supposed to do? Wire this _ insane _ man one billion dollars? His net worth was just over twelve billion dollars, but the kinds of things that a man like that could do with even just a portion of that scared Tony. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“We got a location on that livestream yet?” He asked through clenched teeth.

“No, Boss.”

Tony’s phone buzzed on the table, and the screen lit up with an unknown number. He practically lunged for his phone in his haste to answer it. “Who is this?” he asked, gruffly.

“_Ah, Stark, I think you know who this is._” The voice on the other side of the phone said, almost chuckling. “_I just wanted to let you know that I know about Mister Parker’s… secret identity, we’ll call it._”

_ Secret identity? Wha- oh. Spider-Man. _ “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The voice laughed, deep and hearty. To the outside ear, one would have thought Tony had just told a hilarious joke. “_Oh, yes you do!_” he sing-songed. “_Cut the crap!_” he shouted. “_Now, you’re a smart man, Stark. Smart enough to know that I mean what I say. And now, I’m saying this: if you don’t wire me the money within the next six hours, I’ll make what just happened seem like a reflex test from a doctor’s mallet. Do you understand me?_”

“Yes.”

“_I’m so glad we’re on the same page._” He hung up.

His hands shook as he picked up his phone and dialed Rhodey. He was always there for Tony when he needed him and he picked up on the third ring. “_Hey Tony. I saw the livestream._” Rhodey’s voice came through the speakers in Tony’s phone as his vision tunneled and he put his head between his knees, forcing air into his lungs.

Rhodey must have heard Tony trying to get ahold of himself through the phone, and he switched gears, “_Hey,_” he said, softer this time. "_Breathe, Tones. Breathe_.” He took a few exaggerated breaths for Tony to mimic. “_That’s it, you got it._”

“This is…” Tony swallowed, throat constricting and chest aching, as if his lungs might explode, “this is all my fault.” His voice was low, for fear of catching Morgan’s attention, but he felt like screaming. Yelling, running, kicking, destroying everything that was in between him and Peter. 

“_No, Tony. Don’t say that._”

“I let it happen. I let him go on that _God-forsaken_ trip. I encouraged it. I _paid _for it.” He gets up from the chair and starts to pace, running a shaky hand through his unwashed hair. “And it’s my fault that this is even happening in the first place. I mean, I didn’t steal BARF or anything. BARF is my creation. I just- he was _my_ employee.”

“_Tony, stop._” Tony stopped pacing in his tracks and pushed his fingers into his eye sockets to stop himself from crying. “_You know there was no way you could have known that this would happen. You know that. So don’t tell yourself otherwise._” Tony heard Morgan’s door open and her and Pepper walked out, suitcases in hand. “_Are you guys coming back to the city today?_”

“We’re walking out the door right now,” Tony grabbed his suitcase and rolled it out to the car, setting his and the girls’ suitcases in the trunk, and doubling back to close and lock the front door of the cabin. Tony held the phone so it would catch the sound more directly from his mouth and he could speak more quietly so Pepper and Morgan couldn’t hear him, “He gave me six hours, Rhodey. To wire him the money. Or he’s gonna hurt Peter again. Worse, this time, he said.”

“_We’re gonna get this figured out, okay Tony? Peter will be okay. We’ll get him back._” 

“I sure hope so.” Tony hung up and put his phone in his pocket and met Pepper and Morgan in the car. Morgan sat in the backseat, playing on her tablet with headphones covering her ears. 

“Hey,” Pepper put her hand on Tony’s wrist as he reached to start the car. “Is everything okay?” she whispered, voice barely audible over the blasting AC in the car.

Tony shook his head and shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the long driveway that was a pain to deal with in the winter. He switched it into drive and they were off, Tony’s knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel so hard as he tried to just focus on driving.

Pepper put her hand on the back of his neck and worked out some of the tension as he drove, not needing words to tell her that something was terribly, terribly wrong.

After they’d driven in silence for a while, Tony couldn’t stop the horrors that he had seen earlier from coming out of his lips. It was like the dam that had been holding it in had broken, and now all Tony could do was sit there and watch as this awful story poured from him once again.

When he was done, all Pepper could do was sit there in silence. “Why?” was all she could say, so many words coming to her mind, but none coming out except for that one, simple, yet unanswerable question. “Peter hasn’t done a single thing wrong in his life.” Tony nodded, grip on the steering wheel tightening even more. “He doesn’t deserve _ any _ of this. He-”

“Incoming call from Happy Hogan.” FRIDAY interrupted. Tony’s eyes flicked up to the rear view mirror to see Morgan in the backseat, now asleep with her earphones still on, tangled in her hair. 

“I’ll get it.” Pepper said, picking up Tony’s phone and swiping the call open. “Happy,” she greeted.

“Hey, Pepper. How are you? How’s Tony?”

“We’re holding up alright.” She looked at Tony. “Any news?”

“No. They basically said that this kind of thing happens, and it’s just something that you have to deal with on your own. They said that, since Beck initiated contact so quickly and made his demands clear, Peter’s odds are great.” Pepper could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

“And how are you doing, Happy?”

He sighed. “I wish I’d done things differently. I mean, sure he was annoying when he was calling me every two seconds to tell me that an old lady just bought him a churro, but he’s a great kid. None of this should have happened.”

“It’s okay, Happy. He knows.” It was silent for a moment. “Would you make sure that at least some of the Avengers are at the Tower and ready for a quick meeting when we get there?”

“Of course. How far out are you guys?”

“We’ll be back at the Tower in about an hour.”

“Okay. Sounds good. Talk to you later.” He hung up.

They rode the rest of the way back in relative silence, not really having much to say.  
  


Tony cleared his throat as he looked around the group, Rhodey, Happy, Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Steve, and Bruce, waiting for him to begin. He tried to tell himself he wasn’t going to lose it in front of all the other all the Avengers who could be there, but his stomach knotted painfully and his breath caught whenever he thought about what Peter was going through at that very moment. They hadn’t seen much of each other after the final battle, and Tony hadn’t even told them the full situation yet.

“Thank you all for coming,” Tony greeted them, all sitting around a long, rectangular table in the Tower’s lab. Usually it was reserved for Bruce, but this was a special circumstance. 

“Would you mind catching us all up on everything? We know you, Tony,” Natasha started, “and we know that you don’t normally go around adopting kids. Who is Peter?”

Tony took a deep breath and started, “Peter… Peter was my intern. His last living relative died in the aftermath of the Snap, and so Pepper and I took him in.” He hoped that they all would accept the explanation, but to no avail.

“And…” Rhodey prompted. “It’s okay, Tony. They can know.”

Tony sighed, “And… he’s Spider-Man.” Natasha nodded. “But that’s not the reason that Pep and I adopted him, by any means. We adopted him because…” his voice broke and he realized that he had already failed his goal. “Because we love him. We love him.”

“He was kidnapped by a former SI employee who is mad about how Tony stole their idea. He’s asking for a ransom of a whopping one-billion dollars.” Rhodey took over and Tony shot him a look of gratitude. “I won’t go too far into the details but,” he paused, thinking over his next words carefully. “But this man, Quentin Beck, has already started torturing Peter. And he’s threatened worse if Tony doesn’t dole out the ransom,” he checks his wristwatch, “in about three and a half hours.” Tony felt his stomach knot even more than it was before. _ Three and a half hours _. That’s not a long time.

“What can we do to help?” Steve asked.

“We need to get a ground-search up and running. The police in Paris have been doing practically nothing. They’ve been keeping an eye on the livestream and that’s pretty much it. So I need people on the ground, searching empty buildings, and anywhere they could be hiding.”

“We can do that.” Natasha said, looking around at the others, who all nodded in agreement. 

“Happy, Rhodey, I think it would be best if you would stay here to handle things with the FBI, just in case they get mad about us ‘assembling’ again.” Natasha picked up her phone to type something.

“I agree.” Rhodey said. 

Natasha looked up from her phone, “Okay, the jet leaves in an hour. Everybody, pack your things and be on the plane in half an hour.” The group broke, but she stayed lagged behind to talk to Tony. She put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to get him back, got it?” Tony nodded and tried not to let the tears that pricked his eyes spill. 

“Thanks, Nat.”

She offered him a tight smile and turned on her heel to pack her things and head to the hangar. 

“Tony,” Rhodey stood from his chair and approached Tony, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to tell Morgan what’s happening.”

Tony’s knees wobbled and the room spun around him. He shook his head. No. No. No. Morgan adored Peter. It would break her. Telling her that her brother might never come home would be too much. “I…” Tony whispered, “I can’t.” He sat back down in his chair, the gravity of the whole situation bearing down on him and making him feel like he might explode. 

“But you have to. She needs to know, Tony. You know that.”

“How?” his voice broke. “How do I tell a five-year-old girl that her brother might not ever come home? How is she supposed to understand that? How _ can _ she understand that?”

Silence.

  
  


Tony rode up the elevator a little later, heart sinking further down as he rode up the elevator closer to the penthouse. It was time. Pepper and him needed to tell Morgan about what was happening.

When the elevator doors slid open at the top floor, Pepper greeted Tony in the living room. “How did it go?”

Tony’s felt like he might collapse at any moment, but he gave her a tight-lipped smile. “They’re heading to Paris right now to search for him on foot.” She nodded and he paused for a moment. “Where’s Morgan?”

“Napping.”

“Pep, we have to tell her.”

She brought her fingers up to her lips and stared back at him. “Boss, incoming video from Quentin Beck.” FRIDAY said. Tony sat down on the couch and pulled out his phone, heart nearly beating out of his chest.

_ “Three hours to go, Stark,” _ Beck’s voice came through the speakers of Tony’s phone. _ “But in the meanwhile, I don’t what you to think that I’m not taking good care of your boy.” _ Tony could hear Peter’s muffled cries for help in the background, and Beck panned the camera over to show Peter, now reclined in the chair, so that his head was lower than his legs, a brown towel covering his face. _ “How’re ya feeling, Peter? It’s been about a day since you first got here, are you thirsty?” _Peter shook his head no, pleading sobs coming from underneath the towel.

Pepper gasped when Beck picked up a large vase full of water and began to pour the water onto the towel. It probably lasted for no longer than a minute, but every minute that they could hear Peter’s choked sobs becoming more and more panicked felt like an eternity for Pepper and Tony. When Beck’s vase was finally emptied, he peeled the soaked towel off his face, and Peter sputtered for air, each breath a whining gasp, coughing to try to get all of the water out of his lungs. 

_ “Three hours, Stark. Then it gets even worse.” _ The video stream ended, screen black.

“FRIDAY,” Tony said through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Wire him the money.”

“Tony, no-”

“No. Wire him the money. I can’t let Peter go through this anymore just so that man won’t get the money. It’s time for Peter to come home.”

“Amount of one billion dollars successfully transferred to Quentin Beck.” FRIDAY responded. 

Pepper glared at him and he put his head in his hands. “Tony, you know that wasn’t the right thing to do.”

He sprung up from where he was sitting and stood facing her. “Maybe it wasn’t, okay? But I couldn’t just _ let _ him go on torturing Peter like that, Pep! He was _ waterboarding _ him.” He felt the panic rising in his chest again and did his best to push it down, heart pounding harder and harder each moment. 

Pepper stood and pulled Tony into an embrace. “This is scary for all of us. But we’re going to get through it. Peter _ will _ come home. He will. We will get him back.” 

“Mommy? Daddy?” Morgan padded over to them with bare feet and Tony felt like puking. _ She needs to know _, he thought.

“Hey honey, come here,” Pepper sat back down on the couch and pulled Morgan into her lap, bringing her head close to Pepper’s chest and stroking her soft brown hair, tousled from sleep.

“There’s something we need to tell you, _ bambina._” Tony sat down next to them, putting one of his arms over Pepper’s shoulder, and the other on on Morgan’s back.

“What is it?” Morgan asked, stifling a yawn.

“Sometimes… people do really mean things. And we don’t know why, but they do mean things anyway. Some mean people take things from other people.”

“Like when Luke took my lunchbox during my play group?” Morgan asked Tony. Her innocence was making this conversation so much harder.

“Yeah, sometimes it’s like that.” he paused, trying to find a good way to say this, but none came to mind. “But sometimes, they do even meaner things.” He cleared his throat and made eye contact with Pepper, neither of them wanting to tell her the next part. “_ Bambi _, one of these mean people took Peter away.”

It was silent for a beat, the news not really sinking in to Morgan. “What do you mean?”

“Honey,” Pepper started, “Peter might not come home from his trip.” She felt a sob rising up in her, but she forced it down so that her and Tony could be as solid as Morgan needed them to be. 

“What? Why? Where did he go?”

“We don’t know.” Pepper said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“But,” she pulled her head away from where it was resting on Pepper’s chest to look at Tony directly. “But you said that there is only six sleeps left.”

“I know. And I’m sorry, but it’s going to be longer now.”

“But…” she fumbled for words to express the feelings she was having, “but I miss him. He has to come home soon. He said only ten sleeps. It’s already been four sleeps, so that means he should be home in six more.”

It was times like this when Tony and Pepper cursed themselves for raising such an intelligent daughter. “I know, _ bambi_, I know. I’m sorry.”

“So how many more sleeps now?”

“We don’t know, hon.” Pepper answered. 

Her lower lip trembled and her eyes welled up with tears. “Why?”

Tony and Pepper made eye-contact, the tears in their own eyes almost spilling. “He-he has to come home! He promised me that he would teach me how to dive at the lake!” She was really crying now, unable to stop the flow of tears. Tony looked up to Pepper, his rock, his unshakable foundation, and saw tears streaming down her face too. 

Now, Tony couldn’t hold his tears back anymore either. They all stayed there on the couch until Morgan had cried herself back to sleep. 

They leaned back into the cushions, heads pounding after so many tears, when Tony’s phone buzzed. 

He practically ripped it out of his pocket, fingers scrambling to unlock it to see the notification. The only thought on his mind being _ maybe Beck sent the location. _

When he finally unlocked his phone, all he could do was stare at the screen in horror. It was a picture of Peter. Now strung up by his wrists, he was dangling from chains attached to the ceiling, head drooping unconscious.

“What is it?” Pepper asked, eyes wide. All Tony could do was sit there, mouth agape and show her the phone. She scrolled up to read the text that had been sent along with the picture.

_ ‘Wow. You surprised me, Stark. ME! I never thought I would see the day where I was surprised. But it happened. And I must commend you for that. However, now that I know how much this boy means to you, I’m going to have to ask for a little more. For the small price of another billion dollars, You can have our location. But don’t wait too long… I still have a couple tricks left up my sleeve.’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: kidnapping, beating, waterboarding.
> 
> Chapter summary: Peter's kidnapper is Quentin Beck. He gives Tony a ransom demand of one billion dollars. He breaks Peter's kneecap and waterboards him. leading Tony to pay the ransom. Tony meets with some of the other Avengers, and they organize a ground-search in Paris to look for Peter and Beck. Pepper and Tony tell Morgan that Peter may not come home from this trip. Beck demands more money in exchange for their location. 
> 
> Thank you all so so so much for reading. Let me know what you think of this chapter!


	14. alone in the dark (wondering where you are)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you all had a great week:)
> 
> Posting schedule for this next week is going to be a lil wonky. I'll be out of town and probably won't have time to write/edit/post from Thursday-Sunday, so y'all can expect an update on Tuesday or Wednesday!
> 
> TWs and chapter summary are in the end notes! I changed the rating to Teen and Up because I finally figured out where this story is going and... it gets a bit dark. Enjoy!
> 
> Title is from "Lonely Night in Georgica" by Johnnyswim.

It had been… a week? Maybe more? Maybe less? Time was a foreign concept to Peter at the moment. All he knew was the dimly-lit room he was being kept in. It was huge, with ceiling fans hanging maybe forty feet in the air, lazily spinning, making the room even colder than it already was. 

His time was measured by food. He’d been in that building for thirteen Meals. Meals. If you could even call them that. A stale slice of bread and a hard-boiled egg was not a meal. But still, all Peter could do was look forward to them. They were all he had.

Peter was taken down from where he was hanging by his wrists after a little while. He didn’t know how long. 

This was before he started getting Meals. 

Beck must have released him from a remote that the chains were attached to, because he doesn’t remember anybody coming in to let him down. One moment he was in the air, gasping for breath, shoulders dislocated, waiting for death to come, the next he was falling, feet hitting the ground, all of the pain from his still-healing knee resurfacing, making him black out completely. When he came-to, his wrists were held by chains, attached to something behind two round holes in the wall. The freezing temperatures made the pain so much worse, and he knew that he had to do something about his shoulders. He used the chains to pull on his arms, popping both of his shoulders back into place, every movement coming with a burst of excruciating pain, relieved when his shoulders were back in their sockets. When he could move his arms again, he examined the rest of himself for other injuries. Other than his deformed and bruising knee, the rest of him seemed fine. The metal of his shackles was icy against his skin, stinging in the places where it had rubbed raw, pink flesh exposed to freezing air. His first Meal was waiting for him when he woke up, just out of arm’s reach. 

After the first couple Meals, he’d gotten the routine down. Scoot as close to the plate as his chains would allow, lay down on his back and stretch his arms out, lengthening his body as much as possible, drag the plate close enough to his body with his good leg so that it would be within arms’ reach, grab the plate. And with his injuries healing, albeit slowly because of the lack of food and nutrients, each Meal became less and less painful to retrieve. There were two guards that switched on and off giving Peter his Meals. They always walked in and out without saying anything, never responding to Peter’s hoarse attempts at conversation. In and out. In and out. In and out. Thirteen times. 

But one thing that never came with the Meals was water. After the first day when Beck had almost _ drowned _ Peter, he hadn’t gotten any more water. The only kind of moisture Peter got was from his food, and it was not much. He’d never been as thirsty as he was now, remembering all the times he thought he was thirsty before and realizing that that was hardly anything compared to this. His lips were chapped and every bite of food turned into a hard-to-swallow paste in his mouth.

Beck hadn’t come back since before his first Meal. But that didn’t stop Peter from never getting a wink of sleep, for fear that he would come back to deliver on his promise to Tony that things would get much, much worse.

In a distant part of Peter’s mind, he wondered if Tony had paid the ransom. He wondered if that would even do any good. Would Beck even release him if he got the money? Or would he just ask for more?

Peter leaned against the wall, cold surrounding him on all sides. He curled his good leg up to his body and wrapped his arms around it as best he could with his shoulders. His pants were stiff, frozen with his own urine and the water that Beck had dumped on him before his first Meal. Every joint in his body hurt and he could hardly bend his fingers or toes anymore. He was constantly clenching and unclenching his fists to keep blood flowing to his fingers, but he almost wondered what the point was. He might die in this building. 

He just had to hold on until Tony came. When Tony comes, everything will be alright. 

In the darkest, coldest times, the times in between Meals when time passed slower and slower with every oncoming moment, hunger gnawing at his stomach and cold at his toes and fingers and ears and nose and lips, he would imagine Tony finding him. Tony ripping off the door to the building and the building being filled with light and warmth and security. Tony holding him, sharing his body heat with Peter until warmth returned to his body and he could feel his fingers and toes again. He hardly remembered what warm felt like anymore. 

He imagined being with Morgan again, teaching her how to dive off the dock into the lake without a splash. He imagined being with Ned and MJ. He often wondered if MJ was okay after the attack. He hadn’t seen her since then, so he assumed that she was fine. It wasn’t her that they wanted, anyways. Just him. 

Sometimes, he wondered if Tony was even looking for him. It was so cold and so dark and Tony would have found him by now if he was actually looking, right? Why was he still here? Why wasn’t Peter back at the Tower yet, safe and warm?

But he pushed those questions down. Because the only thing that got him through the long wait in between Meals was the thought of him being home and safe, with Pepper and Morgan and Tony. 

_ Oh. Oh no. _ It occurred to Peter. What if Tony wasn’t looking for him because of what happened with Morgan? It’s the perfect situation- better than Tony could have asked for. Peter gets kidnapped and life goes on for Tony, just like it did before Peter came along. Before Peter ruined Tony’s family. 

Peter hears footsteps approaching and he whipped his head up. This must be his fourteenth Meal. “Hey man.” Peter raises his hand from where it was resting on his good knee in a weak attempt at a wave. It barely registered in his mind that the light on the camera mounted on a tripod in the middle of the room was now blinking red. “Anything new for me to eat today?”

He squinted at the approaching figure, this one different than the rest. He didn’t see the big gun that was normally strapped to their backs, didn’t see the plate in their hands.

“Peter?” A voice came from the figure, and they picked up the pace, almost running toward Peter now. It had been thirteen Meals since Peter had heard another voice, and the voice kind of sounded like-

“Tony?” Peter cried. He was found!! He was finally going to get out of this place! He would have a real meal and a good night’s rest and a hot shower and go swimming in the lake with Morgan again. He wasn’t going to die here. 

The man ran closer to Peter, face finally becoming illuminated in the near-darkness. He was here. But something was off. Something in his facial expression, something in the way he held himself, something in his gait. But maybe Peter just wasn’t remembering correctly. Thirteen Meals felt like a long time. 

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Peter. “Tony! I thought you weren’t coming! Help me get out of these handcuffs before they come in here. It’s almost time for my next Meal, so they’ll be back soon. We gotta get out, quick.” Peter forced the words out of his throat, even though that every noise he made made him feel like he was swallowing bricks. He crouched down beside Peter and put a hand on Peter’s cheek, and Peter’s brain screamed at him, (DANGER, PETER. DANGERDANGERDANGER) but he leaned into the warm touch anyways. Why would Tony be dangerous? He smelled- different than he normally did. Normally, the scent of black coffee and cologne lingered on Tony and followed him around wherever he went, but now… now he smelled different. But maybe it had been so long that Peter just didn’t remember correctly. A lapse in his memory.

“Peter, Peter, Peter,” He was wearing jeans and a Black Sabbath t-shirt and a jacket. Where was his Iron Man suit? How did he get in here? Did anyone else come, or was it just him? So many questions flooded Peter’s mind, but only one word came to his lips.

“Tony?” Peter whimpered, unsure.

“Maybe if you were strong enough, you would have found your way out of here already.” He got up and paced in front of Peter. “You know what, I probably shouldn't have even hired you as an intern in the first place, let alone adopt you! I mean, how _ on earth _ could you be my son? You couldn’t even find your way out of this place.” He closed the gap between him and Peter again, leaning over him so that their faces were mere inches apart. “It’s simple, Peter!” he nearly shouted, and Peter flinched back against the wall.

“M-Mister Stark?” Peter asked, voice wavering. “Mister Stark, I’m tied up, I can’t move. I would have gotten out if I could hav-”

“No excuses!” Peter felt the man’s hand sting across his face and he scrambled back, away from the man’s destructive force. He knew on the inside that this man was not Tony, not the man that had taken him in and given him a home, not the man who taught him how to start over again, but he couldn’t get past the face. It was Tony and he was disappointed in Peter.

“I’m sorry, Mister Stark, I’m s-sorry,” The man paced and walked toward Peter and Peter scrambled as far away as his chains would let him, every muscle in his body tense, every hair raised, back of his neck flaring in warning. Peter saw the man remove something from his pocket, a small black cylinder. A flashlight? “Please! Please don’t,”

The man clucked his tongue against his teeth as Peter pulled as hard as he could on his chains to get away. “Peter, why are you trying to get away from me? I’m your father!”

Peter shook his head. “No, you’re-you’re not him. You’re not him.” As the man got closer to him, Peter’s pleas got more and more urgent. He held out his hands in front of himself, shoulder’s sore and arms shaking, in an attempt to keep the man at a distance, but the man just kicked them away, crouching down at Peter’s side. “Please,” Peter whimpered. “Please don’t,” The man pressed the cool cylinder into Peter’s side, Peter trying to push it away, but the man was much stronger than Peter was in his weakened state. 

The man pressed the button on the other end of the flashlight and every muscle in Peter’s body contracted at once. A deep, guttural scream was ripped from Peter’s throat as he curled in on himself to try and get away from the source of his pain. 

He was stuck. He couldn’t move, couldn’t stop screaming.

It seemed to last forever, but Peter knew in reality that it was probably only five or six seconds. Every one of those seconds lasted an eternity for him. 

When it was over, Peter’s screams turned into sobs that bounced around the room, echoing on every surface, mixing with the man’s maniacal laughter. He clicked the button again, pressing the device harder into Peter’s side, and Peter wished he would just die. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything. 

When the man had finally had enough of the stun gun, Peter was left shaking and gasping for breath. The man stood up and Peter cowered further into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. “You know what, you deserve this.” He pressed a button on his watch, and Peter’s chains began to retract into their holes in the wall, dragging Peter behind like a can on a string behind the car of a pair of newlyweds. 

“Who do you think you are, trying to get away from me? I’m Tony _ freaking _ Stark! Iron Man!” The chains stopped their grinding, clanking noises when they had been pulled completely back into the wall, leaving Peter scrambling to stand on his good leg before he was dragged up the wall by the chains. They stopped just short of Peter being suspended in the air, leaving him barely enough slack to avoid being strung up again. He tried not to put any weight on his bad leg, focusing all of his energy into holding his left leg strong, ankle shaking from exertion. The man walked away from Peter without another word, and Peter sobbed in relief. _ Not Tony, not Tony, notTonynotTonynotTonynotTonynotT- _

Lost in his own mind, Peter didn’t hear the footsteps return. Head down, eyes full of tears, he didn’t see the man walking toward him swinging a bat in his hand. Barely looked up in time to see the man swing the bat, landing hard on Peter’s left shin. 

The last thing Peter heard before he blacked out from the blinding pain that was overtaking his entire body was the sound of his shoulders popping out of place again.

  
  


Peter could only assume that the man was Beck.

And now, Beck fed Peter all of his Meals.

When he woke up after his most recent experience with Beck, the chains had been released enough so that he could sit on the floor, though still not able to lower his arms at all. The light on the camera was no longer blinking red. He was alone again. Short, clipped footsteps were what woke Peter up, Peter scrambling to get away, to run far, far away from this place, leave here and get back to his home. Get back to his friends and his family and _ safety _, but he couldn’t. Even if he wasn’t literally chained to the wall, he couldn’t flee with his injuries.

His legs throbbed with each heartbeat, and every breath Peter drew in made his newly-dislocated shoulders ache more and more. He didn’t even want to look at his left leg, but it was unavoidable. Through bleary eyes, Peter saw that his leg was crooked, and he would have thrown up, if there was anything in his stomach _ to _ throw up. Peter’s existence was characterized by pain, and he wished it would just _ end _. 

Peter saw Beck approach him, still wearing Tony’s face, and the same Black Sabbath t-shirt and jeans and jacket as the five other times he had been in there. Now, he held a tray in his hands and Peter was disgusted. 

It was time for his seventeenth Meal. 

Beck knelt down on the floor by Peter and held out the slice of bread, toying with him with a terrible grin on his face. Peter leaned as far toward the food as the chains would allow, shoulders cracking as he twisted against the chains, a desperate attempt to get food. 

Beck laughed and shoved the food in Peter’s face, most of it falling on the ground where Peter couldn’t reach. The wasted food made Peter want to cry. Every day he thought that he couldn’t be more hungry, but then the next day came, worse than any of the others before. 

What was taking Tony so long? They couldn’t be _ that _ hard to find if anybody was actually looking, right? Especially not with all the StarkTech made specifically for this kind of thing. Facial tracking and security footage should have made it easy to find them. There had to be some kind of footage that caught where they went. 

“Y’know,” Beck spoke, and Peter jumped at his words. It _ really _sounded like Tony. But… Tony wouldn’t do this. Why would Tony do this?

Oh.

Maybe Tony would do this because of what Peter let happen to Morgan.

No.

He shook the thought out of his head before it could take root.

Because if this really was Tony, then there was no reason for Peter to hang on any longer. 

“Most of the time, in kidnapping cases, if there’s any chance of a ransom being paid, it would have already been paid by now.” Beck grabbed the hard-boiled egg from the plate and shoved it down Peter’s throat, leaving Peter to sputter and choke.

Beck pushed himself up off the floor, taking the plate with him. “Nobody cares about you, kid. Nobody’s looking, and I bet nobody even noticed that you’re gone.” Peter glared at him as he caught his breath. Beck turned on his heel and walked away, heavy footfalls echoing off the walls of the desolate room.

“Boss, I have an update.” FRIDAY interrupted Tony and Pepper’s conversation with Happy and Morgan.

“Go ‘head, FRI.” Tony said. His heart raced and his stomach dropped.

“I would suggest that you are not in the presence of Morgan when I relay the message.” Tony looked up at Pepper, meeting her worried gaze. She turned to Happy.

“Would you mind keeping an eye on the little miss for a couple minutes while we see what’s going on?” Pepper asked. She looked down to Morgan, who was watching her with wide eyes. “It’s going to be alright, okay hon? We’ll be right back. Stay here with Uncle Happy and we’ll come back in a couple minutes.”

As she got up, Morgan grabbed her sleeve, tears in her eyes once again. “But,” Pepper crouched down closer to her daughter and looked her in the eyes. “What if you don’t come back? What if a bad man takes you too?” Ever since they told her about this, she’d been clinging to her parents with every fiber of her being, desperately trying to protect what was left of their family.

Pepper’s heart broke. Morgan was so young. Too young to ever have to worry about things like this. “I promise we’ll come back.”

“Pinky promise?” Morgan held out her pinky finger as a verification.

“Pinky promise.” Pepper hooked her pinky around Morgan’s.

“Boss, the message is urgent.” Tony rubbed his eyes.

“We’re coming, FRI.” He helped Pepper up and they walked briskly over to the elevator, where FRIDAY took them to the lab. “What’s going on, FRI?”

“The livestream has been reactivated, and it appears that you are in it.”

The elevator arrived at the lab and the doors slid open. “What do you mean?” They walked out of the elevators, towards the screens in the lab.

Eleven days.

It had been eleven days since that deranged man took Peter from the streets of Paris. Ten days since Beck’s last contact. Ten days since Tony and Pepper told Morgan that her brother might never come home. 

Ten days since anyone in the Stark household slept.

“FRIDAY, turn it on on the TVs in here.” The screens flicked on, the audio bouncing off the smooth surfaces of the lab. The timestamp was from a few days before.

_ “Hey man.” _Peter looked terrible. He was curled up against a wall, and the knee that Beck had broken was noticeably swollen, even through Peter’s pants. His voice was hoarse, and he looked like he’d lost twenty pounds since the last video. Old tear tracks ran down his face, cutting paths through the grime on his skin and his curly hair was plastered against his head.

It was times like these when Tony cursed the invention of HD.

_ “Anything new for me to eat today?” _ Peter asked. Were they feeding him? They must be, right? Otherwise, why would he be asking if there’s anything new for him to eat?

_ “Peter?” _ A voice came from off-screen and Peter squinted to make out who it was in the dim light. Pepper immediately recognized the voice and turned to Tony, eyebrows creased in confusion. 

_ “Tony?” _ The relief in Peter’s voice was palpable and Pepper gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked to nobody in particular, voice low.

_ “Tony! I thought you weren’t coming! Help me get out of these handcuffs before they come in here. It’s almost time for my next Meal, so they’ll be back soon. We gotta get out, quick.” _He shook as he brought his hands in front of him, showing his manacles to the other person. The man came into view of the camera, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. He knelt down by Peter and put a hand on his cheek. 

_ “Peter, Peter, Peter,” _The man’s voice was barely audible.

_ “Tony?” _ Peter whimpered, looking up at the man, fear beginning to flood his eyes.

_ “Maybe if you were strong enough, you would have found your way out of here already.” _ These words felt like a knife in Tony’s gut and he grabbed on to a lab table to steady himself. _ “You know what, I probably shouldn't have even hired you as an intern in the first place, let alone adopt you! I mean, how on earth could you be my son? You couldn’t even find your way out of this place.” _

“No,” Tony spat out, “No, it’s not true.” Pepper grabbed his hand and they watched on.

_ “It’s simple, Peter!” _

_ “M-Mister Stark?” Peter asked, voice wavering. “Mister Stark, I’m tied up, I can’t move. I would have gotten out if I could hav-” _Tony’s vision blurred and he took a deep breath. The man turned away from Peter and started pacing. Tony and Pepper both leaned in to see the man’s face, and neither of them could even say a word when they saw who it was.

_ “No excuses!” _The video feed lagged and skipped, but Tony still heard the slap.

_ “I’m sorry, Mister Stark, I’m s-sorry,” _ Peter scrambled away, trying to get away from the impostor, yanking at his chains until he was just out of sight of the camera. _ “Please! Please don’t,” _

_ “Peter, why are you trying to get away from me? I’m your father!” _It made Tony sick to his stomach.

_ “No, you’re-you’re not him. You’re not him.” _ The camera wasn’t positioned to where they could see Peter, their view was only of the man’s backside, leaning over Peter, ignoring his pleas. 

A click of a button.

Then, screaming.

FRIDAY intuitively lowered the volume on the speakers in the lab, but Peter’s shocked scream’s still came through much too loud. Tony’s stomach twisted and turned, and a part of him didn’t want to have any idea what that man was doing to Peter, but the rest of him desperately needed to know what was happening.

After about five seconds, Peter’s screams faded into sobs and mixed with the man’s maniacal laughter. The second click of the button was barely audible over the sound of Peter’s pain. 

Another five seconds passed, and Tony felt like passing out.

The man stood up and looked down at his wrist, tapping his watch. _ “You know what, you deserve this.” _ The holes in the wall where Peter’s chains were attached began to draw the chains in, metal grinding on metal as Peter was dragged along by his wrists, somehow looking even smaller than he did in the first place. When the chains stopped retracting, Peter was left to stand on his good leg, arms pulled up above him by the chains. Peter was 5’7”, so the holes where the chains were connected must have been ten feet up the wall. _ “Who do you think you are, trying to get away from me? I’m Tony freaking Stark! Iron Man!” _

Tony could see the strain that Peter was under. Every inch of him shook from exertion, face fixed, trying to be strong. The man walked away from the camera, face visible for only a moment, but it was undeniably Tony. When Peter looked up and saw that the man was gone, his resolve crumbled, and he broke down, hanging his head low and sobbing, left knee dangerously close to buckling.

But the man returned. This time, holding a baseball bat in his hand. But Peter didn’t notice until it was too late. The bat came down hard on Peter’s left shin, leaving the bone crooked and fractured into little pieces.

Peter passed out almost immediately, and Tony thanked God. The less time that Peter was awake, the less pain he’d feel. The man tapped his watch again, and the video stream faded into black once more. 

Tony stared at the lab table, hands gripping the edges for dear life. All he could do was focus on breathing, in, out, in, out, nothing more. “That son of a-”  
  
“Tony,” Pepper touched his neck and urged him to look up at her. “Tony. We’re doing everything that we can.” He shook his head. 

“No. There’s gotta be more, gotta be something we’ve overlooked. Something that will lead us right to them.” He got up and started to pace around the lab, mind running itself in circles trying to find a solution. “We-we gotta go out and look, they’re still out there, a-and,” his breath hitched and he couldn’t continue. Pepper walked over to him and pulled him into a chair.

“Tony.” He looked up at her. “There’s nothing more we can do for him right now. Okay? Nothing. But, there’s a little girl up their in our penthouse who is _ terrified _ that something is going to happen to us too. We have to be there for her right now. She needs us.” He buried his face in the crook of her neck and nodded.

“Boss, two of Peter’s classmates are in the lobby.” Tony pulled away.

“What do they need?” Pepper asked.

“They have Peter’s luggage from the trip.”

“Send ‘em up, FRI.” Tony said. 

“Yes, Boss.”

A few moments later, the elevator slid open, and two teenagers carrying Peter’s backpack and suitcase walked out, eyes wide as they took in their surroundings. 

“Uh, Mister Stark? Miss Potts?” the boy asked, setting down Peter’s suitcase and extending a hand to shake. “I’m Ned, and this is MJ.” Tony and Pepper shook their hands. The boy- Ned, opened his mouth to say something else, but no words came out.

“We would have come sooner, but this is the first time our parents have let us out of their sight since we got back.” MJ said, giving a small smile. A necklace with a disassembled black glass pendant hung around her neck, and Tony could see the worry behind her indifferent facade. 

“We didn’t trust the school to bring it by here, because of what’s inside his backpack.” Ned said, handing the backpack to Tony, who unzipped it and found Peter’s Spider-Man suit laying on top.

Tony nodded, not wanting his voice to crack if he tried to talk, and Pepper picked up the slack. “Thank you two. We appreciate that. We wish that we could have met you both under better circumstances.”

“So…” the tension in the air was almost tangible, but MJ trudged on, “ What are you doing to find him? Have you gotten any leads yet?” she asked, wringing her hands.

“We’re doing everything that we can, alright?” Tony answered and she nodded.

“Be honest,” she challenged. “Will he be okay? Will he come home?” She bit her bottom lip and Ned put his arm around her shoulders.

“Listen, I don’t know! I don’t know.” Tony’s voice cracked and Pepper started to usher the pair back to the elevator.

“We’re going to get Peter back.” Pepper said as the elevator doors slid closed and FRIDAY took them back down to the lobby. “Whatever it takes.”

Tony opened Peter’s suitcase and sat down on the floor. He started pulling out Peter’s clothes and Pepper sat down next to him, the two of them breathing in the familiarity of his things. 

By the time they were finished, all of Peter’s stuff was strewn about the lab floor and they couldn’t hold themselves together anymore. They let themselves break, surrounded by all of Peter’s things, the stress and exhaustion eating at them until they were hanging by bare threads.

The elevator opened once again, and Morgan rushed over to her parents, Happy lingering behind.

“FRIDAY told us that it was safe to go down here now.” Happy explained as Morgan crawled into Pepper’s lap.

Tony cleared his throat. “Thanks, Hap.” Happy gave a sad smile. 

“Do you want to tell me about what happened or should I ask FRIDAY later?” Happy asked, glancing over at Morgan and then back up at Tony.

“FRIDAY, later.” Happy nodded.

“I’m going to let you guys have some privacy. I’ll be in the penthouse if you need me.” Happy said as he left.

“Why is Petey’s stuff all over the floor?” Morgan asked, picking up one of his science pun t-shirts and holding it close to her body.

Pepper sniffed. “We were just looking at it all, honey.”

“Can I keep this for now?” Morgan asked, wriggling out of Pepper’s arms to slip the t-shirt onto her tiny body. She settled back into Pepper’s lap.

“Of course. Peter would want you to have it.” She stroked Morgan’s hair and Tony leaned in too, rubbing Pepper’s back. 

“I really miss him.”

“We all do, _ bambi_. We all do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: being hung by the wrists, use of a stun gun as a torture device, withholding food/water, identity theft (kind of), suicidal thoughts.
> 
> Chapter summary: After being held hostage for so long, Peter keeps track of the time based on how many meals he is given. A man who looks like Tony comes into the room where Peter is being kept, and Peter believes he is being saved. However, this man is not Tony, and instead tortures Peter, physically and psychologically. The second half of this chapter is the same as the first part, but from Tony's perspective. Ned and MJ return Peter's luggage from the trip to the Tower.
> 
> Fun fact: Beck appearing to Peter as Tony was 100% where I thought FFH was going to go. Thank you all so so much for all the support this fic has received. Every week I am blown away. I love reading and responding to all of your comments. You all are the best!


	15. and we both play the joker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've worked so hard to keep a consistent posting schedule, and this week I'm throwing it all away lol.
> 
> TWs and chapter summary are in the end notes!
> 
> Title is from "Villains" by Johnnyswim.

Beck had quickly grown tired of his job with Peter. Feeding him was no fun anymore. 

So he decided to spice things up a little bit. 

“You ever filleted a fish, Peter?” Beck asked one day, holding a hard-boiled in his hand, and Peter’s mouth would have watered if there was any spare water in his body. He shook his head ‘no’, eyes pleading for the food. He’d given up with words six Meals ago. They never changed the outcome. 

“Well, if you had, you would know how fun it was.” He stuffed the egg into Peter’s mouth, and Peter hoped it was just pointless musings. 

Beck pulled a pocket knife out of the pocket of his jacket and extended the blade, holding it out in front of himself, face a picture of admiration.

All Peter could do was sit there and watch. Even if he wasn’t still chained to the wall so he couldn’t move, he was too weak to do anything but stare in faux submission.

He pressed the cool, sharp tip of the knife at the top of Peter’s ribcage, and dragged it down until it reached Peter’s hipbone. The grimy, once-white button-down that Peter was wearing was now drenched in red. Beck wiped the blade off on Peter’s pants, and slid it back into his pocket. 

The long cut stung and it felt like it was leeching the little warmth that was in his body before out. But all Peter could do was wait for Beck to give him the rest of his Meal. It was his twenty-fourth Meal, and he was losing hope. He no longer resisted when Beck tortured him. It never got him anywhere before. Only got his Meals taken away, only earned him more pain.

He wondered when his body would succumb to the blissful embrace of death.

He was now on his sixty-second Meal and he didn’t know why he still counted. His body was wrecked, every bite of food he took cost him another beating. 

Tony wasn’t coming. He knew that.

So why was he hanging on? What was the point?

The way Peter saw it, he only had one option to get out of that building, and he’d been considering it, mulling it over, making a plan in his head for about eight Meals. He had nothing but time on his hands, and he considered his plan to be flawless, the perfect choice for his current situation.

Push himself off the ground as much as he could with his useless legs so that there would be enough slack in his chains. Loop the chain around his neck. Deadweight.

He hoped that his body weight would be enough to cut himself completely off, end his suffering quickly.

He’d never been suicidal before, but it sure seemed like a better option than continuing to take this torture, starving to death waiting for a rescue that clearly wasn’t going to come. His only choice was to rescue himself, and this was the only way Peter could think of to do that.

But every time he went to carry out his plan, and escape from this desolate situation, something stopped him. Whether it was the memory of MJ laughing on a gondola, basking in the Venice sun, playing the newest _Star Wars_ video game with Ned, or Morgan’s excitement when he told her that he would teach her how to dive into the lake, or maybe just the fact that he really _ didn’t want to die _, he couldn’t bring himself to follow through. 

But as the days went on, his hope for the future dwindled until the light at the end of the tunnel seemed like it was a candle just about to be snuffed out.

So he decided. He was finally going to do it. He was finally going to end this. In a situation where he had no control at all, he would control his death.

It had been over a month and Tony was losing hope, fast. Beck hadn’t made another contact with them since the week before, and there hadn’t been any leads in the ground-searches or tracking efforts in weeks. Pepper put a lock on Tony’s account so he couldn’t wire Beck another billion dollars.

Not that he would do that again, anyway. He knew that it wouldn’t work. He would always ask for more and more money, like a leech, until Tony’s accounts were run dry. 

And then he would kill Peter.

And Tony couldn’t let that happen.

But he had no way of knowing if it had already happened. Maybe Beck got tired of having to keep Peter alive, and just decided to kill him. Maybe all of the proof of life photos that Beck sent Tony were old photos and he was already long gone. But Tony tried not to think about that. He couldn’t stand the thought that this was all for nothing.

All of the Avengers who had been combing the streets of Europe looking for Peter and Beck returned to the States the week before, after finding nothing the entire time that they were there. 

Tony had cleared a wall in the lab, now dedicating it to the search efforts. The surface was covered in photos, screenshots from security footage, articles about Beck’s history, SI records, information about the SI data breach that happened right after the first Snap, all connected with a long thread of red string.

Natasha walked through the sliding glass doors of the lab with Tony’s favorite coffee mug in-hand. She found him hunched over, staring at the wall, like he’d been doing for hours. He turned around when he heard her footsteps on the concrete floor. There were dark circles under his eyes and he hadn’t shaved in more than a few days. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and Natasha handed him the coffee mug.

“Thanks,” he whispered, turning back to the wall and taking a long drink of what he thought was black coffee. “Hey,” he said, turning to her, “This isn’t coffee, this is water.”

“Yes.”

“Water isn’t going to keep me awake.”

"Exactly. Tony,” she said, pulling up a stool next to him. “I’m going to be honest with you.” she put a hand on his shoulder. “You look awful.” That caught his attention, and he turned to face her, setting the mug on the table behind them. “You’re not going to have any new revelations by sitting here and pouring over this conspiracy board. You need to be realistic here,” she grabbed his hand. “Peter might… not be…”

“Alive?” Tony’s hoarse voice finished for her. “I… I know.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand and hung his head. “But I can’t accept it. Because… he’s my kid, Nat. He’s my kid and I can’t give up on him. I can’t sit around knowing that he’s suffering. I can’t.” She nodded. “You know,” he paused, “it’s his birthday tomorrow. The big one-eight. He shouldn’t have to spend it like this.”

Natasha nodded again and she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. “He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up, Tony. You need to shower and get some sleep. Your wife and daughter are up there, in the penthouse, worried about you.” He looked back up at her and nodded.

“And I know that you blame yourself for this whole situation, and you feel like it’s your responsibility to fix, but Peter wouldn’t want you to punish yourself like this, either.” He nodded and she got up from the stool and pulled him toward the door. “It’s time for you to go take care of yourself right now. You’re doing everything that you can, and now it’s time for you to rest for a couple hours.”

She dragged him into the elevator and it whirred up to the penthouse. “Thank you, Nat.” She squeezed his hand and the doors opened. She pushed him out of the elevator into Pepper’s embrace. 

Pepper pulled him into the bathroom. “Tony, this has been extremely difficult for all of us, but we still have to take care of ourselves. You’re going to take a shower, wash your hair, shave, and then come out to the living room with me and Morgan to watch a movie. Got it?” He nodded and she left, closing the door behind her. 

He turned on the flow of water and the sound of the water hitting the tiles filled the bathroom. Tony peeled off his clothes and stepped into the flow, letting the water completely soak him before squeezing shampoo into his hands and scrubbing his scalp until it foamed. He rinsed it out, and washed his body. The hot water did nothing to ease his tension, and his head still ached when he was done.

When he was finished, he turned the water off, standing in the shower as the steam rushed out to the rest of the bathroom and the only sound was water dripping from him. 

He stood there for a few moments, not even willing himself to move, until the cold drove him out to dry off and change into clean clothes. He looked at the mirror, staring back at a different person than he’d been a month before. 

He splashed cool water onto his face and spread shaving cream over his stubble. Maybe having his signature look back would make him feel more like himself, more normal. When he was finished shaving, he dried his face with a towel and picked up his clothes from the bathroom floor and dropped them in the hamper. 

All feeling was gone. 

All anguish, all anger, all sadness, all guilt, all of it. Gone. All he knew now was desperation and exhaustion. 

He heard Morgan and Pepper chatting in the living room about which movie to choose. He flicked off the lights as he walked out of the bathroom and out into the living room. 

“Ready to watch a movie?” Morgan asked, beckoning him to sit next to her. 

He forced a smile. “Yep. What’re we watching tonight?” He sat down and she snuggled into his arms, Pepper on her other side putting her arm over Tony’s shoulders. 

“We should watch _ Star Wars_.”

“You heard the girl, FRI. Turn on _ Star Wars. _”

“Okay, streaming _ Star Wars: A New Hope _ from Disney+” The lights dimmed as the movie started and Pepper got up to grab a blanket, and draped it over the three of them. 

Before the movie had even been playing for thirty minutes, the three of them were asleep, the stress and sleeplessness of the past month pulling them into a fitful slumber. 

Tony woke up after about an hour, breathless from another nightmare. Usually his nightmares had been limited to something happening to Peter, but lately Morgan had been included as well. 

So now, not only was every waking moment torture for Tony, but every sleeping moment was too. 

He stroked Morgan’s hair and felt her breathing against his chest. He pressed a kiss to Pepper’s forehead, where it was resting on his shoulder and the fingers of sleep pulled him back down.

“Boss,” FRIDAY had lowered her volume to try not to wake Morgan and Pepper. “Boss.” Tony blinked into awareness, not feeling any more rested than the last time he was awake. The early-morning sun streamed through the blinds and made Tony’s head pound.

“FRIDAY, what time is it?”

“It is currently six twenty-three AM.”

“What do you need?” he yawned.

“Boss, there’s been an anomaly on the security footage near a warehouse just outside of Paris.”

His stomach dropped and he felt like he was in free-fall. “What do you mean?”

“Should I play the footage?”

“Yes, mute the volume.” The security camera stream appeared on the screen in front of them, and Tony saw a man walk through the doors of a large warehouse wearing the same outfit that Beck was wearing when he was torturing Peter, even down to Tony’s face. He seemed to look down at himself, realize what he was wearing and then immediately turned on his heel to go back into the building. After a few moments, he walked out again, this time wearing different clothes and a different face, the same clothes and face he’d worn when he walked in and out of that building a dozen times in the past month. It was a simple mistake, one that anyone could have made. But this one was going to lead Tony straight to Peter. 

And Tony knew that this was it. “FRIDAY, send the coordinates to me and the rest of the team. Tell them to suit up and meet me on the jet in an hour. Call Happy.”

“Yes, Boss.” Tony reached for his phone, sitting face down on the coffee table in front of him, trying to move as quietly as possible so he didn’t wake Morgan or Pepper. He put it up to his ear and Happy picked up on the fourth ring.

“Tony, what’s happening?” Happy answered.

“I-” the words caught in Tony’s throat. “I think this is it. I think we’ve found him.”

“What? How?”

“I’ll tell you later, but would you mind making sure that the rest of the team is on the jet in no more than an hour. We have to go get him.”

“Of course, Tony. Let’s go bring him home.” He hung up. Pepper stirred against Tony’s shoulder.

“Tony?” she asked. “What’s going on? Why are you up?” She squinted up at him and he smiled, tears pricking his eyes. 

“I know where Peter is. It’s time to bring him home.” She sat up.

“Are you serious?” He nodded, smiling a real smile for the first time in over a month and pulled her toward him, bringing her face to his and planting a kiss on her lips. 

“Go pack a couple changes of clothes and meet back here. I’ll grab some clothes for Morgan.”

“Is there anyone who can stay here and watch her?”

“I think that she should be there when we find Peter. Not…_ there_, of course, but stay on the plane with Bruce, or someone. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, and I know that she’ll want to see him immediately after.” Pepper pressed her lips into a line and nodded. 

“I’ll go get us packed if you can get Morgan packed.” Tony nodded and got up from the couch and tucked the blanket around Morgan’s still-sleeping form. She was still wearing Peter’s t-shirt that she had taken from his suitcase, completely refusing to take it off. She'd only agreed to take it off to be washed when Pepper bribed her with juice pops.

He stuffed some of her clothes into her backpack he found in her closet, and then flicked the lights off as he walked out. He set the backpack behind the couch in the living room and then walked over to Peter’s room, grabbing a couple t-shirts and a pair of sweats from his drawer and met Pepper in their bedroom, about to close their suitcase.

“Here,” he set Peter’s clothes on top of theirs and zipped up the suitcase. “You got our suits?” Pepper nodded, picking up his red and her blue metallic briefcases that contained their suits. The two of them quietly moved all of their things into the elevator and Tony’s hands shook with anticipation as he gently shook Morgan awake.

“Hey _ bambi_, we’re going on a little trip, okay?” He took her hand and grabbed her shoes, leading her into the elevator.

“Where-” she yawned, “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to bring Petey home.” He squeezed her hand.

This was it.

This was it. 

Peter was finally going to do it.

He started pulling himself off the ground, trying to push past the excruciating pain in his legs and shoulders and everywhere else to give himself enough slack in the chains to loop it around his neck, but he was stopped by the sound of footsteps entering the room. This was… sixty-three? Sixty-four? Peter could hardly clear his mind enough to keep track of which meal this was. 

He stared straight ahead, trying his best to ignore Beck as he approached him and sat down. Beck held the egg in front of him, seeming to contemplate how he would hurt Peter today. “You know, Peter, you’ve gotten pretty boring recently.” Peter looked over at him, stomach growling for the food, even though he felt like he would throw up if he had to eat another hard-boiled egg. “You don’t even respond to me anymore.” He fed Peter the egg, surprising Peter with his almost-gentle manner. But when Peter had swallowed the egg, Beck grabbed a fistful of Peter's greasy bangs and slammed the back of his head into the concrete behind him.

Peter saw stars as he struggled to maintain consciousness. Beck stuffed the bread in Peter’s face and punched him, Peter’s head being thrown to the side. “I went to the store for you today. So you could eat today, and you don’t even so much as thank me?” He picked up the plate and stood up, kicking Peter’s leg as he walked away. “I’m getting real tired of this, Peter.”

Peter forced down the rest of his last Meal, trying not to think about how much his head ached or how his legs and shoulders throbbed, or how he couldn’t feel his hands or feet anymore. How pathetic it was to think that his last meal would be a hard-boiled egg and a slice of stale bread. 

He couldn’t help but look back on his life as he tried to swallow the rest of the bread down his throat. Was he satisfied? Did he have any regrets? Was there anything he wished he would have done differently?

He didn’t know. He really didn’t know.

He only knew one thing: he really didn’t want to die. At all.

But he didn’t see any other option. 

At least he would be with May and Ben and his parents. Wherever they were.

So he did what he thought he had to do. He didn’t know how he found the strength, but he somehow managed to lift himself off the ground and create slack in the chain to loop it around his neck, saying a quick prayer to whoever was listening. 

And then he let himself drop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: general torture, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt
> 
> Chapter summary: Beck continues torturing Peter, appearing as Tony. Real Tony(™) figures out where Beck and Peter are, they head out to bring Peter home. Peter has given up hope and attempts suicide to get out of this situation.
> 
> I'M SO SORRY THAT YOU ALL HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL NEXT WEEK TO SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter! I love interacting with you guys.


	16. say it's real (won't you tell me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm so sorry for the long wait, especially after that last chapter.
> 
> TWs and chapter summary are in the end notes!
> 
> Title is from "Moonlight" by Johnnyswim.

The jet was filled with excited anticipation as they climbed higher and higher into the air. The whole team was there. Happy, Rhodes, Bruce, Sam, Steve, Bucky and Natasha, plus Pepper, Morgan, and Tony, were all sitting quietly on the jet, game plan clear. 

Bring Peter home, at all costs. 

“I feel like I owe you all a better explanation than I gave you before.” Tony said about an hour into the flight, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Steve said.

“No,” Tony replied, pulling his phone out and pairing it with the TV screen on the plane. “I want to.” Pepper grabbed his free hand and he pulled up the earliest photo he had with Peter, taken shortly after the incident with the Vulture. They’d met on Fridays, getting together to tinker in the lab when Peter got out of school. The photo was a selfie of the two of them, taken by Peter, of course. He looked thrilled out of his mind to be in Tony Stark’s lab, but Tony looked indifferent at most.

“I first noticed Peter when I attended a science fair at his school,” he paused, the idea of bringing Peter home finally starting to sink in. “And, like the airhead he can sometimes be, he used his web fluid as his project. That’s what put him on my radar.” He swiped to the next photo: a selfie of just Peter that he’d taken when Tony set his phone down for a minute. “I went to his apartment to recruit him for our… fight in Germany, and made up the internship so his aunt wouldn’t get suspicious.”

“They were close. Closer than any aunt/nephew duo I’ve ever seen.” Morgan shifted in her sleep. She’d dozed off when they loaded the jet, despite the excitement of the moment. “After Germany, I had Happy keep an eye on him as he did his Spider-Man stuff. I kept him at a distance. But after an incident where… I failed as a mentor and he almost got very hurt, I got more involved.”

He swiped to the next picture of Peter on his phone, one from the “internship” award ceremony, where Peter got his official SI certificate. Peter stood next to Tony, beaming at the camera despite the fact that he knew the internship wasn’t completely real. “He started coming over to the Tower on Friday afternoons, to work in the lab with me.”

“And then came Thanos.” Pepper squeezed his hand encouragingly and everyone knew what happened next.

“All he wanted to do was help. To be an Avenger. But then on Titan…” he took a deep breath and blew out, trying to calm himself. Even after all this time, he still couldn’t talk about that day easily. “I lost him. I had to come back without him.” The cabin was silent for a moment, and Tony swiped to the next photo. A memorial for Spider-Man that the people of Queens had set up in the middle of the city after the Snap.

“Even before he… died, he was like my son. And those five years were torture. Knowing that I failed. Knowing that he was gone.”

“And then, we got everyone back. It was surreal.”

“But Peter’s aunt, his last living relative, died in a Snap-related accident, and Peter was left without a legal guardian. So,” he looked over at Pepper, “Pep and I adopted him. And… I think you all know the rest of the story. Today’s his birthday, by the way. Eighteen.” Morgan woke up and sat up next to Pepper, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “So when we get him back tonight, make sure and wish him a happy birthday.”

“Tony,” Sam interrupted. “Have you considered how rescuing Peter will go? I mean,  _ really _ considered it?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Do I need to?”

“Well, yeah. Think about it.” He leaned forward and set his forearms on his knees. “He’s been tortured, and more than that, at least once but probably more, by a man who looks and sounds exactly like you. There will be lasting psychological consequences. He might… not realize that you are really you.”   
  
Tony shook his head. “No. No, he’ll recognize me.” But on the inside, Tony wasn’t so sure. Sam made a good point.

“So what’s the actual plan, when we touch down?” Steve asked.

“I think you and me should handle Beck,” Natasha said, looking at Steve. “And the rest of you should split up into pairs and look for Peter. I’m sure there’s at least a couple rooms in that building, and splitting up would be the quickest way to go about finding him. Bruce,” she turned to him, “Bring in your medical kit. We don’t know what kind of shape Peter will be in when we find him, but we know that Beck has been torturing him. Peter’s healing factor may have taken care of most of the issues, but there’s a good chance it won’t.” He nodded. “Hopefully his injuries will be manageable from the jet, but do we have a backup plan if his injuries are more… serious?” she asked Tony.

“Not really, but,” he picked up his phone, “I can call… what’s his face, T’Challa!” he remembered, “His sister Shuri fixed up my arm, and it’s almost completely better now. I’m sure she could handle whatever damage Peter’s got.” He dialed T’Challa’s number, unsure of whether or not he would pick up. “Wakanda’s only a six or seven-hour flight from Paris, right? You could handle it for that long on the plane, right?” Bruce nodded and Tony’s phone rang.

T’Challa picked up on the second ring. “Tony,”

“Your Highness,”   
  
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We have a situation that we’re dealing with over here,” the rest of the team had begun chatting idly, and he stood up and walked over to the plane’s conference room at the front of the plane, pacing around the table as he talked. “And we need your sister’s help.”

T’Challa was disappointed, but not surprised. Nobody ever actually called for him. “I’ll put her on the phone.” 

Tony heard the phone change hands. “Hello Mister Stark. How are you?” Shuri asked.

“I’m alright, thanks. I don’t know if you heard about this-- I know Wakanda is pretty isolated-- but Peter was kidnapped last month.”

A beat of silence followed. “Kidnapped? Is he okay?”

“We don’t know. We just got wind of where he was being kept, and we’re on our way now. But we realized that our only plan for medical attention is Bruce on the jet. Wakanda is only about a six hour flight from Paris, right? That’s where he’s being held. He’s been tortured, but we’re not sure to what extent. Could we count on you if Peter requires more attention than Bruce can provide?”

“Of course you can. Please keep me updated. Even if you have everything under control.” Her voice wavered a little as she said that. “I can help you over the phone if it can’t wait to get here, alright?”

“Got it. Thanks, Shuri.” He hung up and walked back into the main seating area. “Everyone, we have a plan B.”

Shuri handed the phone back to her brother. “What was that?”

“There is another broken white boy for me to fix.” She wrung her hands. They were both sitting on the couch. It was a Thursday, and they both took Thursdays off to spend with their family.

“How bad?”

“They do not know yet. But they have Bruce, so it must be pretty bad. He said that I am the plan B, but still.”

“You can handle it,” he scooted closer to her so their knees were touching. “You are the most capable person I know, little sister.” he reached up and tilted her chin so she was looking at him. “Who is it?”

“Peter,” she drew in a shaky breath. “If it were not him, it would be fine. But it is him. T’Challa?” she asked. “What if he dies?” He pulled her in for a hug and tears pricked at her eyes. 

“It will be okay.” He rubbed her back in small circles. “It will be okay.”

She pulled away abruptly. “I think I need some time alone right now.”

“Shuri, wait,” T’Challa called out after her as she walked into her room, but it was too late. She closed the door behind her and locked it.

She sat down on her bed and pulled out her phone, vision blurring. She wasn’t normally like this. Normally, she was cool, calm, and collected, no matter what the situation. 

But this was different. This was Peter.

Even though they’d hardly spent any time together, he was one of her best friends. When they’d met they’d had so much in common that it was an instant connection. She didn’t really get much interaction with people her own age in Wakanda, given her technological prowess and leadership responsibilities. Not to mention the fact that she was also the princess of Wakanda.

She scrolled through her photos and found the pictures and videos she’d taken on their day out in New York City. She didn’t tell him, but that was one of the most exciting days of her life. Out on the town without a security detail following her around and making sure she wasn’t doing anything too fun. It was just her and Peter, and they were free, nobody recognizing them in a sea of faces that swarmed NYC daily. And as far as everyone else knew, she hadn’t gone out with Peter at all. She’d spent the waiting time in between conferences reviewing her notes in her hotel room, far out of the public eye and far out of danger. It felt nice not to be noticed.

They had been keeping in touch after she came to NYC. They texted each other, nearly daily, keeping each other updated on the others’ life. They were both fascinated about the life that the other led. But when Peter had stopped responding to her texts the month before, she hadn’t really thought anything of it. They were both really busy, and she knew about his trip. But she kicked herself over not thinking more of it. He always responded to her texts within a half-an-hour of her sending them, even when it was late in NYC.

The kid had a bit of a sleeping problem.

_ Maybe the international texts are getting too expensive, _ she reasoned with herself.  _ Or maybe he is just really busy and doesn’t have time right now. He’ll text back when he gets the chance. _

But then he never did. She should have realized sooner. But she didn’t. And now, Peter could be knocking on Death’s door because she didn’t think to check to make sure he was okay.

She’d texted him birthday wishes earlier that day. He hadn’t responded. Why wouldn’t he have had time to send a quick response?

She did a Google search for ‘Peter Parker’, and hundreds of news articles flooded her screen about the abduction of Tony Stark’s adopted son. How did she not see any of these? Maybe if she had, the advanced Wakandan technology could have picked up his location earlier. Maybe-

Her thoughts were interrupted by a rapid knock at her door. “Shuri, open this door right now,” her brother’s voice came through the door. “Open it or I will break it down.”

She walked over to the door and turned the knob, the lock unclicking itself. “Shuri,” she didn’t realize that she was crying until she pressed her face into her brother’s chest and saw her tears darken his blue t-shirt he was wearing. “Come here, little sister. Come on,” he pulled her over to her bed and sat down next to her.

“He is one of my closest friends,” she leaned her back against the wall. “But I did not do anything when he stopped answering my texts. I could have saved him sooner. And now, he might be dying because I didn’t think to see what he was up to.” He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her over, so her head rested on his knee.

“You don’t know how badly he is injured, yet. He could be completely fine and not even need your help. You have to consider that as a possibility.”

He felt her shake her head  _ no _ on his leg. “But even if he is fine, he still had to endure the abduction. Mister Stark said that he has been tortured by the man who took him in the first place. If I had said something, maybe he wouldn’t have had to go through all of the suffering that he experienced.”

“It is not your fault, okay Shuri? Not at all.” She sighed and sunk further into herself. Mister Stark would contact her in a few hours, and then she would know for sure.

They found a large, open area to land the jet close to the warehouse where Peter was being kept. At least from the air it looked open. In reality, it was an abandoned winery, all of the grape vines shriveled up and baking in the hot French sun.

“Okay, is everyone clear on the plan?” Tony asked, setting his briefcase on the ground and letting it unfold into his suit and surround him until he was suited up. Pepper did the same.

“Go in. Get Peter. Get out. Let Nat and Steve handle Beck.” Rhodes answered.

“I can handle the little miss,” Happy nodded over at Morgan, who was watching a show on her tablet. “We’ll stay on the plane and make sure it’s ready to go as soon as you all come back with Peter.” 

Pepper nodded, faceplate of her suit retracted. “Thanks Hap.” She turned to Bruce. “Have you got your medical kit?”

“Yep. It’s all right here.” He motioned behind him to a bag stuffed to the brim with medical equipment. “Everything except the drugs. Those are in the conference room. When we bring him back here, we’ll keep him in there and…” he nodded back to Morgan, still oblivious to the whole conversation, “her back here. Just in case it’s…” he trailed off. “Not something she should see.” He paused. “And if it’s worse than we can handle, we’ll head to Wakanda and the Princess can handle the situation herself.”

The cabin rocked slightly as the jet hovered above the field and then touched down. “Alright everyone, let’s go get Peter back.” Morgan looked up at Tony and Pepper with her big brown eyes. “I love you, Morguna. We'll be back, soon.” Him and Pepper pressed kisses to her forehead and walked off the plane with a nervous hope.

The team weaved their way through the tangled mess of dried grapevines and eventually made it to the street that the warehouse was on. The building loomed over the team and the anticipation had been built to its peak. “Everyone ready?” Tony asked. The group proceeded and cautiously opened the door. When they saw that the coast was clear, they went running in, their mission never leaving their minds.

“Boss, incoming call from Quentin Beck.” Beck? What did he want? 

“Put him through.”

“It’s over for you, Beck. We found you.” Tony’s voice came through the speakers of Beck’s phone. Beck’s hands shook as he tucked the handgun into his waistband, metal freezing cold against his skin.

“You haven’t wired me my money, Stark. You cannot have your boy without that.”

“Watch me.”

“If you don’t wire me the money right now, I will shoot him.” For all the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Beck’s voice remained exquisitely calm.

“You wouldn’t,” Tony’s voice was a low growl. 

“Oh, I would.” He paused. “And I think I hear your team getting closer. The minute they enter this room, Peter’ll be a goner.” Beck watched Tony, frozen standing outside of the building.

“FRIDAY, wire him the money.” Tony’s voice came through Beck’s speakers, every moment the team getting closer and closer to discovering Beck and Peter. 

“Your account has been locked by Pepper Potts.” FRIDAY responded.  _ No, _ Beck thought. His plan was falling apart.

“Abort mission, everyone, abort. He’s got a gun, abo-” The door to the room opened and Beck raced to Peter before they could find him. Peter had entangled his neck in the chains that had been holding him to the wall, and Beck was content to see that he might already be dead. He was tucked away on the outside wall that was not completely visible when you first walked through the door. Perfect for a situation like this.

Beck had a plan and knew exactly what he needed to do. And he did it without hesitation.

Gunshots.

Three of them, four? Tony didn’t count.

They made his blood run cold and his stomach drop as he raced into the building. He could hear the others through their comms, none of their words making sense to Tony. He had to get to Peter.

_ ‘Down the hallway, last door on the left,’ _ Natasha’s voice came through their earpieces, instructing the rest of the team on how to get there.  _ ‘Multiple gunshot wounds to the abdomen, strangulation look like the most pressing injuries. Beck offed himself.’ _

Time seemed to slow down as Tony raced around the corner. The temperature dropped significantly by the time he reached the entrance, and the putrid smell made him want to bend over and puke. He burst through the open door and came into the room, blood spattered across the space. He followed the blood track to Beck’s blown-out brains and Peter in front of him, eyes wide open and glazed over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs: gunshots, suicide.
> 
> Chapter summary: The team heads out to get Peter, Tony calls Shuri to provide backup medical services if Peter's injuries are more than Bruce can handle on the jet. They find the warehouse where Peter is being kept, Beck calls Tony and tells him that he will shoot Peter if Tony doesn't wire him the second ransom. Tony's accounts are locked, and he is unable to wire the money. Beck follows through with his promise and shoots himself as well to avoid capture.
> 
> I'm... so sorry.


	17. it ain't over 'til it's done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs and chapter summary are in the end notes!
> 
> Title is from "Pay Dearly" by Johnnyswim.

Peter faded in and out of consciousness. Whether the drop wasn’t high enough, or that he wasn’t heavy enough, his plan didn’t work. 

And he hated himself for it. 

He had read in health class freshman year that most people who attempted suicide knew as soon as they’d jumped that all of their problems were solvable. 

But not Peter. 

Every breath was a gasping whine, but he couldn’t get down. There wasn’t enough slack in the chain. 

But then he heard something. Voices. Doors opening and closing. And he thought maybe he had a chance of being rescued. But Beck came back. 

He was talking on the phone, in a big hurry. Peter was too out of it to process much information, so he just assumed it was time for his next Meal. He wished that he was dead. 

But Beck didn’t have any food in his hands. He had a gun. 

Peter saw Beck aim the gun at him, saw him pull the trigger, heard the shots.

He didn’t know that he’d been shot at first, just felt the blood drenching him, warming him from the outside in. 

And then Beck stuck the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. 

“Multiple gunshot wounds to the abdomen, strangulation look like the most pressing injuries. Beck offed himself.” Natasha and Steve knelt by Peter and Bucky ripped his chains from the wall with his metal arm. “Hi Peter, I’m Natasha. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay?” They laid him on the ground and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think through the searing pain radiating through his whole body. 

Pepper raced to Peter’s side, reaching out to touch his greasy hair. She hovered her other hand over Peter’s abdomen and sprayed a white liquid from her gauntlet. “This should hold you over until we get to Bruce.” 

“Pepp’r,” Peter panted, voice raspy and quiet. “H’rts.”

She removed her faceplate and Peter’s eyes slipped closed. “I know, honey. I’m so sorry. Stay with me, don’t close your eyes,” her voice got more and more urgent with every passing moment. Another pair of footsteps ran into the room, metal boots clanking into the concrete floor and Peter struggled to crack his eyes open again. 

It was Him. 

Logically, Peter knew that this wasn’t Beck. Beck was dead. But… the face. The voice. 

“Pete! Hey buddy. Hang in there, okay? It’s over,” Peter tried to sit up, but Pepper and Natasha held him down. He opened his mouth to scream, to tell this impostor to get away from him, to say anything, but no sound came out. It felt like his vocal chords were frozen and he was stuck inside himself. 

Tony reached out and Peter pulled to get as far away from the man as possible. “Pete,” Tony’s voice broke. “Pete, it’s me.” Peter knew that. His body wasn’t giving him any warning signs, and he didn’t have any reason to be afraid. In fact, he had every reason to feel safe. He was in the safest company in the world, surrounded by people who would never let anything happen to him. 

“Tony, come on. We have to go update Bruce. Pepper’s got this.” Rhodes pulled Tony out the door. 

“N-no, no. I can’t, no,” Tony’s resistance bounced off the walls as Rhodes pulled him out the door. 

“Okay Pepper, what’s the plan?” Steve asked. 

“I’ll get Peter to the plane, you guys go there now. Don’t worry about…” she trailed off, nodding her head to Beck’s body on the other side of the room. “I’ll have FRIDAY mark this building as a crime scene with international jurisdiction so nobody will come in and tamper with the… evidence.”

“Got it. Make sure you are careful with Peter’s head when you carry him. He was hanging with his chains around his neck and he might have spinal damage.” Their voices reached Peter through a fishbowl, distorted and wobbly, and Peter couldn’t focus on anything but the pain he felt, body so broken that he couldn’t even pinpoint where the pain was coming from. 

Pepper’s faceplate replaced itself and a cough worked its way up from Peter’s lungs. He tried to cover his mouth with his arm, but his arms wouldn’t cooperate. He coughed, blood spattering across Pepper’s mask. She gasped. “‘m s’rry,” Peter mumbled, words slurred. 

“It’s okay hon. Don’t apologize. Let’s get you out of here.” She swallowed the bile rising in her throat and slipped her hand underneath his neck and his knees, holding his head and neck steady as she picked up the rest of him. Peter squeezed his eyes shut in response, an agonal groan escaping through his lips. “I’m so sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry.”

She walked out of the warehouse and flew to the jet, all the time holding a barely-conscious Peter in her arms. 

He was fading. 

Pepper didn’t know much about the human body, and gore made her feel sick to her stomach most of the time, but that much she knew. He was fading, and if he didn’t get help soon, he would be lost. 

It should have been Tony holding him, whispering comforting words to him when whines of pain escaped his dry and cracked lips, not her. This was the moment that he had been dreaming about for over a month, the moment that had been keeping him going when all hopes of finding Peter seemed lost. 

Tony lowered the stairs on the plane from inside, and Pepper willed them to go faster. Peter couldn’t hold on much longer. When the steps finally touched the ground, Pepper raced up into the conference room and set Peter on the long table in front of Bruce. 

Bruce’s hands hovered over Peter before he began to peel off his shirt. The damage was unmistakable. Bruises layered his stomach and chest, and long cuts ran down his skin, all at different levels of healing, not to mention the bullets in his stomach. A solemn silence hung over the room before Bruce broke it. “Peter, I’m Bruce. I’m gonna get you fixed up alright?”

“C’n’t breathe,” Peter gasped. The red marks on his neck from the chain were quickly turning black and blue. 

Bruce looked up at Pepper, eyes worried. “We’re going to need to intubate him. Can you call Shuri for me?”

She squeezed Peter's frigid hand and and looked over at Tony, who was standing in the corner of the room wringing his hands. “Could you go call her?”

He nodded and pushed open the door to the main cabin, disappearing through the door. The noise level in the conference room rose when the rest of the team arrived at the plane and the stairs were raised. Bruce grabbed Pepper’s hands and placed them under Peter’s neck, supporting it as he slipped the breathing tube into his quickly-swelling throat and hooked it up to a portable ventilator that was on the floor underneath the table. Bruce pulled a neck brace out from his kit and strapped it around Peter's neck, stabilizing the possible injury there.

The cabin quieted as Peter’s chest rose and fell steadily along with the ventilator in predictable, rhythmic breaths. Peter squeezed his eyes shut and Pepper stroked his forehead. “Is there anything you can give him for the pain?”

“Yeah,” Bruce reached into his medical kit and grabbed a bag of saline and attached a line and needle to it. He hung the bag on a hook next to the table. He felt around Peter’s bare shoulders and Peter whimpered. Bruce hummed in acknowledgement. The plane rose off the ground and took off en route to Wakanda. 

“His shoulders have been out for a long time. Maybe even as long as a couple weeks.” He paused and Peter looked up at him, eyes tired. “I have to put them back in before I can give him any saline or pain meds.” Peter’s eyes flicked back over to Pepper and he shook his head _ no_. She stooped over and put her hand on the side of his face. 

“It’s going to be okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.” She looked back up at Bruce. “Make it fast.”

“Okay. I’m going to need people to hold him down for this.” Natasha, Sam, and Steve gathered around and each held a limb, and Bruce grabbed onto Peter’s right arm and pulled. A loud _ pop _ resounded through the room and Peter tensed, muscles taut and quivering. 

A groan came through Peter’s throat despite the ventilator, but celebratory praise broke out around the room. “You’re doing great honey. You’re doing so great.” Bruce turned Peter’s arm so the inside of his elbow was facing-up. He slipped the needle into Peter’s arm and pulled a small syringe out of his kit and injected it into Peter’s IV line to diffuse into his blood slowly. “Is that going to be enough for him?” Pepper asked. 

“If it’s enough to knock out Steve,” Bruce placed the syringe back into his kit, “it’ll work for Peter. It might not put him out completely, but he won’t feel a thing.”

A few moments later, Peter’s body went limp as the drugs began to course through his veins. Tony walked through the door, finally having gotten Shuri on the phone. He connected the call to the speakers in the room and Shuri’s voice came through, laced with panic. “How is he looking?” Tony sat down in a chair next to Pepper, running his fingers through Peter’s curls. They were greasy, matted against his skull with blood and sweat. 

“Not good.” Bruce turned to the rest of the team, “Could you all go make sure Morgan’s doing okay?” They took the queue and filed out of the conference room. He grabbed his scissors from his bag and made quick work of cutting Peter’s pants off, being especially careful around where the bones had been smashed to pieces, leaving Peter shivering on the table in just his boxers. When Bruce could see the damage that had been done, he prioritized. 

“Evidence of strangulation, possible hypothermia. Multiple burns and lacerations, but none deep enough to cause significant problems. Both shoulders were out-of-place for an extended amount of time. Possible concussion. Extreme hunger and thirst. Multiple GSWs to the middle and upper abdomen. Nanobot fluid was applied shortly after the initial injuries. Internal bleeding is likely. I need to open him up and get the bullets out before he completely heals. The only problem is that I don’t have the resources or personnel to perform the surgery here.” Pepper put her hand on Tony’s shoulder and he leaned over to press a kiss onto Peter’s forehead. The smell of him was putrid; all the grime from weeks of blood and sweat and tears had built up on him and it was disgusting. Tear tracks ran down the filth on his face and his lips were dry and cracked. 

“Get here as fast as you can. Try and fix everything that you can on the jet, and I can do the more invasive procedures that remain when you arrive.”

“Okay,” Bruce said, the three of them just looking at Peter’s broken body. “I’ll put his other shoulder back, and set his leg. Stitch up some of the deeper lacerations, and treat his burns. We’re on our way now.”

“FRIDAY, what’s our ETA?” Tony asked, voice cracking. 

“Six hours and three minutes until we arrive at Wakanda.” FRIDAY responded. 

“See you then. I will be prepared for your arrival, call me if anything comes up.”

“We will. See you then.” The call disconnected and the cabin was silent. 

“I need someone over on his other side to provide traction so I can get his other shoulder in.” Tony’s stomach flipped and he got up and held Peter steady against the table, being careful not to touch the bloody mess that was Peter’s stomach. Bruce grabbed Peter’s elbow and pulled, shoulder cracking back into place. 

Peter made a small groaning noise and Tony stroked his forehead. “You’re doing great, Pete. You’re doing great.” Bruce moved to Peter’s leg and Tony held Peter’s hand. “We’re going to get you all fixed up, Pete.” Tony said. Peter stirred and Bruce moved to keep his leg steady. His eyes blinked open and he groaned, moving to get away from Tony. His heart rate and blood pressure spiked and Tony stepped away, holding his hands out in front of him. 

“It’s me, Pete. It’s me. You’re safe.” He groaned again and turned his head to the other side toward Pepper. “Peter, you’re safe!” His heart rate monitor blinked red and Bruce looked up at Tony. 

“I’m so sorry Tony, but I think it would be best if you left the room.” Bruce said, still holding Peter’s crooked leg.

“No, no it’s fine. He’s fine. Do you have any stronger drugs? To put him out completely?” Tony wrung his hands and he looked back and forth between Peter’s tense form and Bruce’s apologetic gaze. 

“I can’t give him anything else right now, but this will numb him completely. He won’t feel a thing. He’ll be fine.”

“Tony,” Pepper started, ”it’s okay. I’ve got him. You can go and he’ll be okay.” He nodded, never once taking his eyes off Peter, and pushed the door open to leave. 

Peter’s eyelids drooped when the door between rooms closed and Pepper ran her fingers over Peter’s eyebrows, a soothing motion that always did the trick to calm Morgan down when she was upset. 

“All I need you to do is hold his shoulders down while I set his leg.” Pepper looked up at him and tried to swallow the nausea. “The only problem is that it’s already healed incorrectly. You just need to make sure he doesn’t move.” Pepper looked down at Peter, eyebrows still knitted together, eyes groggily peering back up at her. She nodded and leaned over him, crossing her hands over his chest so no wouldn’t be able to move if the drugs wore off enough. 

“Okay, I’m ready.” Bruce nodded and positioned himself to grab the bottom part of Peter’s leg. Peter groaned in response to Bruce’s touch and Bruce hesitated before taking a deep breath and holding Peter’s lower calf in his left hand and upper calf in his right hand. In a swift motion, Bruce twisted the crooked leg back into its correct position. Peter’s entire body tensed and a whine came from his throat. It broke Pepper’s heart. “It’s all done baby. It’s all done now. You’re doing so great.” The drugs were beginning to wear off a little bit, and he balled up his fists and his fingernails dug crescent-moon shaped cuts into his palms. The malaise in his body was nauseating.

Bruce strapped the quickly-swelling leg into a makeshift splint, the sound of the velcro tearing Pepper out of her mind. “Is there anything else you can do for him here?”

“All I can do now is stitch him up.” Bruce grabbed his kit and set it closer to the table, pulling up a stool to sit closer to Peter. He started to clean Peter’s mess of a stomach. The blood was caked around the wounds and the skin fragile. “How long before the nanobot fluid dissolves?”

“About ten hours,” Pepper responded. “By then, we’ll be in Wakanda, and Shuri can give him the attention he needs.” Bruce nodded.

After Bruce had stitched up all of the cuts and treated most of the burns, the monitors on the screens around the conference connected to Peter flashed red. “BP is dropping,” Bruce said. 

“FRIDAY, call Shuri and put her through to the conference room.” Pepper ordered. 

“Will do.” FRIDAY answered. Shuri picked up after the first ring.

“Is everything alright?” Shuri answered, a bit out-of-breath.

“Peter’s BP is dropping, but we don’t know why.” Pepper sat down at a chair next to Peter’s head, stroking his eyebrows. His eyes slipped shut and Bruce paced around the room.

“Is there,” Shuri cleared her throat, “is there significant bleeding? Internal or external?” Bruce responded in the negative. Pepper shook Peter’s shoulders.

“Peter, open your eyes for me, okay?” No response. She shook him harder. “Peter, _ please, _” she pleaded, a lump forming in her stomach. She looked up at Bruce, who was still trying to understand the situation with Shuri. “He’s lost consciousness.”

“Um,” Shuri took a deep breath. “Are you sure there’s no internal bleeding?”

“No,” Bruce answered. “We don’t know anything for sure.” Shuri hummed in acknowledgement. “What should we do if there is?”

“There really is not much that you can do.” Shuri said, voice low. “Just pray you can get here in time.” Pepper leaned over and pressed her forehead to Peter’s, her warmth leaching into him. “Call me if there is anything else. We are ready for you whenever you get here.” Shuri hung up.

The weight of the situation hung in the air. “So,” Pepper looked over at Bruce, who was standing across the room staring at Peter’s vitals monitor, as if trying to solve a puzzle. “This could be it. After all that time, this is what it comes to.”

Bruce shook his head. “No. No, he’ll pull through. He will.”

“Tony needs to be here.” Bruce turned around and nodded.

“I agree. Peter’s out, so it won’t be a risk.” He turned to the microphone on the wall. “FRIDAY, send him in.”

The passenger cabin on the plane had been completely silent for the past two hours. Everyone was on edge. Morgan had begged to go in and see her big brother, but after an hour of ‘no’s and 'not yet's, she wore herself out. They all sat on the edge of their seats, willing the plane to fly faster, to get Peter to the medical attention he needed quicker.

Tony sat in the seat closest to the conference room so he could be near if they needed him. When he designed the jet, he’d made the different compartments completely soundproof for maximum privacy, and now he cursed the decision. It was eerily silent.

This was not how he expected the day to go.

All of those weeks he spent dreaming of this day, of rescuing Peter, swooping in and plucking him out of Beck’s grasp, making him feel safe and protected were gone now. Only the bleak reality that Peter was afraid of Tony remained.

“Boss,” FRIDAY’s voice made everyone in the room jump. “Your presence has been requested in the conference ro-.” He sprung out of his seat and burst through the doors before she could even finish her sentence.

“How is he?” Tony stepped toward Peter, but then remembered the last time he tried to be near to him and stayed where he was. Peter looked a little less broken than two hours before: his broken leg was straightened and splinted and both shoulders were back in their sockets. His cuts had been stitched up, and blood no longer caked around his wounds. He looked over at Pepper, her hand resting on Peter’s forehead. 

“His blood pressure is dropping and we don’t know why. We can’t open him up to fix the internal damage on the jet, and we still have about four hours until we get to Wakanda.” She held out her other hand to Tony. “He’s unconscious and we don’t know how much time he has left.”

Tony’s stomach dropped and he dragged his feet to close the gap between him and Peter, legs feeling like lead. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He sat in the chair next to Pepper, and grabbed Peter’s hand, bringing it up to his lips. Pepper rubbed his back and his vision blurred, unshed tears welling up in his eyes. 

He pressed Peter’s cold knuckles to his forehead. “Is there anything else we can do for him?” he whispered. Pepper shook her head.

“All we can do now is wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: description of injuries, references to suicidal attempts and actions.
> 
> Chapter summary: The team brings Peter to the jet, Bruce fixes him up as best he can, but some of the injuries can only be treated by Shuri in a Wakandan hospital.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


	18. it burns and bleeds and breaks before it bends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally figured out how many chapters there’s going to be!
> 
> TWs and chapter summary are in the end notes!
> 
> Title is from "Amanda" by Johnnyswim

“Peter’s eighteenth birthday is today,” Ned mused, him and MJ sitting on the floor of his bedroom. She nodded.

“Yep.”

She thumbed through the pages of her book (a paperback copy of _ The Goldfinch _ by Donna Tartt to prepare for AP Lit next year) and he ran his fingers over the Legos spread out over the floor, neither of them knowing what to say. After they'd returned to the US after the Paris incident, she'd tried to draw. Really tried. But every stroke of the pencil against the page felt purposeless. 

“I know he can’t see it,” he paused, sucking in a deep breath, “but I sent him a text this morning.” She looked up at him. “Just to say ‘happy birthday’ and… and that he means a lot to me. Is that weird?”

“I…” She set her book down, upside down so she wouldn’t lose her place, “I texted him too.” He hummed and went back to sorting the Legos and she watched him, the two of them listening to little plastic _ clinks _ as he fingered through them. “I miss him.”

“Me too.” The silence that followed every statement was heavy, loaded with the tangible grief that the two of them had been sharing. “MJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think he’s… you know…”

“Alive?” She finished for him and he nodded. “Logically, even if Stark paid the ransom, it would be unlikely that Peter would be released. And after a certain amount of time it’s… it’s just not worth the time and energy to keep him alive.” She played with the broken-glass pendant around her neck and chose her words carefully. “But, in reality, I don’t know what I would do if he wasn’t… alive.” The silence returned and the weight of it bore into their souls, the only sound the whirring of the air-conditioning unit in the window. 

“Me neither.” Ned said. “If-- when--” he caught himself, “he comes home, we need to do something big and special for his birthday.”

“Like what?” Ned reached over across the floor and grabbed a notebook peeking out from in-between his mattress and the wall and opened it to a fresh page. The school didn’t have enough funds to provide counselors during the summer, so they figured that giving the students notebooks where they could journal their thoughts would be an acceptable alternative. Most of the time, Ned’s sat in its’ hiding spot, but some days were harder than others and it was easier to write out everything he was feeling than to bottle it all up. 

“We could throw a big party and invite everyone from school, and then when it’s done, we could watch movies,” Ned suggested, writing the idea down in black gel pen. “All the _ Star Wars _ ones, and whichever other ones he wants. And binge junk food all night.” He tapped the pen against the page. “Oh, and, uh, he’s old enough to gamble now, so maybe we could stop by Delmar’s and buy a couple scratchers.”

MJ nodded. “I doubt Stark will let him out of his sight for another million years after this, so maybe we could have it at the Tower.”

“That’s good,” Ned wrote the idea down in his notebook. He let his pen rest on the paper and their optimism began to fade as if being leached from an open window or the cracked door. He closed the notebook, folding it over the pen to keep his place. “We should call Mister Stark and see what he thinks of the plan.” Ned was always eager for any contact with the man, despite the grim circumstance. 

“I guess,” she picked up her book again and thumbed through the pages. He picked up his phone and searched through him and Peter’s text stream. Scrolling up to when Peter had sent him Mister Stark’s number _ “for emergencies only.” _ took longer than he expected; he had been texting Peter more often than he would willingly admit to MJ. 

He finally found the number and pressed ‘call’. The phone rang and Ned put it up to his ear.

_ “Listen kid, I don’t really have time for this right now,” _Tony picked up.

“Oh,” Suddenly, all of the words left Ned’s brain and he sat there, trying to make his mouth form words that wouldn’t come. “I-I’m sorry, I just, uh,” MJ eyed him and leaned her head back against the wall.

Tony sighed. _ “I think we found him. We’re on our way now. I’m a little busy at the moment.” _

Ned’s heart jumped. “You-- you found him?” MJ’s head snapped back up, eyes wide. 

_ “I think so. They were right underneath our noses this whole time.” _

“So, he’s coming home? For real?” MJ’s jaw hung open and he couldn’t stop a grin from spreading across his face. 

_ “Yep. He’s coming home.” _ There was pride in his voice and Ned let out a _ whoop _ that made MJ jump.

“That’s- that’s amazing. We were actually just calling you to see about having a birthday party for Peter when he comes home at the Tower.”

“We’ll see about that,” Ned heard voices begging for Tony’s attention through the speakers in his phone. “Listen, we’ll talk about that later. I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you so much, Mister Stark.”

_ “Yep. Bye, kid.” _

Ned set his phone down and looked over at MJ, who’s eyes held a million questions.

“He’s coming home.”

They were making record time, scheduled to arrive in thirty minutes, clocking the whole flight in at five hours and thirty-six minutes. But despite their best efforts, Peter was barely hanging on. 

The little color that was in his face was long gone by the time they arrived in Wakanda. His BP continued to drop and he hadn’t regained consciousness since he first lost it. 

Tony and Pepper were glued to his side the whole time. “He’s four bags of saline in, and still dehydrated and hypotensive. I’ve never seen anyone this bad.” Bruce mused, hooking up another IV bag and taking the empty one down. 

“FRIDAY,” Tony mumbled, “put on a pot of coffee.”

“Yes Boss.” The coffee pot in the corner dripped coffee into the pot and Tony pushed himself out of his chair, knees popping in protest. The adrenaline rush of finding Peter had ended hours ago and the stress and exhaustion wore into Tony and Pepper now, begging them to close their eyes and crash. 

“You want any, Pep?” His voice was hoarse and she mumbled something in the affirmative. “You, Bruce?”

“Uh, yeah, I’d take some coffee.” Tony pulled three mugs out of the cupboard above the coffee machine. He leaned against the counter waiting for the pot to fill. The sight of Peter laying there on that table, hooked up to a machine that was breathing for him was sickening. The month-and-a-half had not been kind to him. His skin was pale, almost translucent. It hung off his bones like a thin sheet, making his broken ribs and swollen shoulders all the more evident. His muscular form had atrophied, leaving Peter small and cold and weak. 

The coffee machine beeped, saying ‘I’m ready!’ and Tony turned around and poured three mugs. He dumped a couple sugar packets and a little cream and handed the mug to Bruce. Both him and Pepper liked plain, black coffee. He took a sip from his mug and brought the other one to Pepper, who accepted it graciously. 

The door to the conference room opened and the three of them turned around. Sam walked in. “Hey guys.”

Tony sighed and turned back around toward Peter. “How is he doing?” He sat down in the chair next to Pepper. 

“He’s… hanging on.” Pepper answered. “How is everyone in there?” She nodded toward the main cabin. “How’s Morgan?”

“Nat taught her how to braid and they practiced on Bucky. Then they watched a movie and she fell back asleep.” She nodded and her hand wandered back to Peter’s forehead, absently rubbing circles over his eyelids and above his eyebrows. Her fingers were filthy from Peter’s grime. Sam cleared his throat. “She will definitely need to see a therapist after this.” This got Tony and Pepper’s attention. 

“Wha-why?” Tony asked. 

“There’s a lot of emotional damage from this past month. We can all see it. She’s terrified of having you two out of her sight. And most of the time, the extent of the trauma doesn’t even show up until much later.” Tony set his coffee mug on the table and put his head in his hands. 

“This is all my fault. I should have been more careful. We shouldn’t have told her what happened, maybe then she would be fine.”

“I think you two could benefit from therapy too.”

“No, I actually think we’re completely fine,” Tony said, every word dripping with sarcasm.

Pepper grabbed his hand. “Tony, don’t do this,”

“Tony,” Sam leaned forward. “I want to help. I used to help war vets adjust back to civilian life, deal with their PTSD. And it seems to me like you all could use a little help.” Tony sighed. 

“We are beginning our initial descent. It is recommended that everyone on board remain seated with their seatbelt buckled.” FRIDAY interrupted. 

Tony pulled his phone out of his back pocket and dialed Shuri’s number, downing the rest of his coffee.

“Shuri,” he said when she picked up, “we’re fifteen minutes out. Be ready for us when we get there.”

“What do you need?” He could here her moving things around in the background. 

“Something to transport him with, a gurney or something,” he looked over a Bruce, who held his hand out for the phone. “I’m just going to hand this over to Bruce.”

“We’ll need a gurney, like Tony said, and a portable ventilator. Everything else can wait until he’s inside.”

“Okay. I have everything prepared. I will see you in fifteen minutes.” She hung up. 

Bruce handed the phone back to Tony, and he pocketed it. He leaned down close to Peter’s ear. “We’re almost there, Pete. Almost there.”

Shuri hooked the portable ventilator to the gurney that she wheeled out onto the runway. Her heart pounded and her sweaty hands gripped the metal rails of the gurney, probably tighter than necessary. It had only been about eight hours since Tony Stark has called her asking for help, but it felt like eight days. 

The jet touched down and the ramp came down, displaced air making Shuri’s eyes water as she approached the plane. 

As soon as the ramp touched the ground, Shuri scrambled onboard into the conference room. 

He was there. 

On the table. 

She didn’t know why she was so surprised; she expected it to be bad. But not this bad. The Peter she knew previously was not the Peter on that conference room table, hooked up to an IV and a breathing machine, wasted away to skin and bone. 

She wheeled the gurney next to the table and locked it while Bruce and Tony lifted Peter off the table and onto the gurney. Bruce attached Peter’s breathing tube to the portable ventilator Shuri had brought. 

“Anything else you need to tell me?” Shuri asked and Bruce followed her on the other side of the gurney, Pepper and Tony in-tow. 

“Nothing you don’t already know.” They practically ran down the tarmac to get inside. The three of them followed Shuri into the shining building and straight through the first door on the right. Three women dressed in dark green scrubs greeted them at the door. 

“I’m so sorry, but I need you two to stay out right now. I promise that you will be notified the minute that anything changes.” She wheeled Peter’s gurney across the room and one of the nurses approached Pepper and Tony. “Amare will show you out to the waiting area. The rest of the team should already be in there waiting.”

“I’m not leaving.” Tony pushed Amare’s guiding hand away from him and rushed to Peter’s side. “I need to be here.” Pepper followed behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. 

“Tony,” her voice was quiet, weary. “He will be okay. We have to let her work.”

“Tony, Peter is in the best, most capable hands possible. But you need to take a step back. There’s nothing else for you to do right now that to wait.” Bruce grabbed Tony’s other shoulder and Tony looked up at him, eyes glassy. 

“No,” he whispered. “No. No, I’m staying.”

“I’m sorry Tony.” Bruce picked Tony up, kicking and thrashing, and set him down outside of the room, Pepper following. “I promise we’ll tell you the moment anything happens.” The doors swung shut behind him as he rushed back to help with Peter. 

The room quieted when Tony was gone, leaving Shuri and Bruce to figure out the havoc that had been wreaked on Peter’s body. She twisted her bracelet around her wrist so one of the beads connected with the second component beneath her skin and hovered her hand starting at his head and going down to his toes. A 3D rendering of Peter’s bones and organs appeared on a hologram across the room and Shuri and Bruce went over to take a look. 

“This isn’t good,” Bruce said, taking a look at the projection. “His heart is too weak. It’s backflowing and leaking blood back through the valves. It’s failing.”

Shuri nodded and fought to focus. “We cannot do surgery on him with his heart like this. He would not make it. We need to find a solution to his heart first, then do surgery to remove the bullet fragments.” Seeing Peter like this turned the contents of her stomach to rocks and her muscles to lead. The Peter laying on the table behind her being kept alive by a machine was not the same Peter that she knew. And she knew that he would never be that same Peter again. 

“So what should we do?” Bruce scratched the back of his head. “Would beta blockers work?”

Shuri turned back around and went back to Peter’s side. “We need something immediate. Beta blockers and other medications would take too long to work.” She paces around the room and eventually stopped to look out the large, floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of the room, out to the vibranium quarry. 

“Cardiac massage?” She hummed in response and ran her knuckles over her lips, deep in thought. A train emerged from the tunnel and it came to her. 

She whipped her head around to look back at Bruce. “Get Stark in here now.”

_ Explosions. Shrapnel. Cave. Building. Suit. First suit. Yinsen. _

_ Yinsen dying. _

_ Yinsen dead. _

_ Sand. Hot. Chopper? No, guns. They’re coming. He won’t make it out this time. Not this ti- _

“-ony,” _ Pepper? She wasn’t there, _“Tony, wake up. You’re okay, it was just a dream,” Tony opened his eyes and gasped, everyone in the waiting room staring. 

Pepper had finally convinced him to follow her into the waiting area when he started to doze off from the exhaustion bearing into them all. _ “Come on Tony. I’m sure there’s couches or something to lay down on in there. Peter will be fine. He’s in the best hands,” _ she had coaxed him. 

“You are needed in the exam room.” One of the nurses from before turned on her heel, having completed her task and walked back down the hallway. Tony and Pepper scrambles to follow, the rest of the group eerily quiet. 

Anxiety rose in Tony’s throat and he couldn’t even speak. “Is he okay?” Pepper voiced for him. 

The three of them burst through the doors and were met by Bruce and Shuri standing on either side of Peter, a hologram of something dark, metallic, pulsing almost like a heart, hovering over Shuri’s hand. 

“What’s going on?” Tony forced out as he stood by Bruce, catching his breath. 

“His heart is too weak to do any invasive procedures right now.” Shuri’s voice hid a triumphant smile behind it. 

“We want to put a vibranium sleeve over it. To help it pump blood and continue to function.” Shuri extended the projection to Tony. “He would need to have it for the rest of his life, but it will adjust over time to fit his needs.”

Tony and Pepper watched the miniature heart pump for a couple beats and Pepper looked up. “Do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: PTSD, description of injuries
> 
> Chapter summary: Bruce and Shuri work on Peter's extensive laundry list of injuries.
> 
> I just rewatched Iron Man 1, and there's no way Tony was being held for ransom on a hit from his former mentor for 3 full months, and not have PTSD from it. I know it's already been established that he has PTSD from New York, but it's unrealistic to think he would come back from Afghanistan without lasting effects. 
> 
> So anyways, that's why I included the nightmare part. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think!


	19. don't you come any closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out it's a little less intense than it has been, so I'm not going to do TWs and chapter summaries in the end notes anymore unless anyone actually wants me to. Let me know! Also, next week's chapter is going to be a couple hours later than normal, but hopefully it will still be up on Sat:)
> 
> Title is from "Closer" by Johnnyswim.

Peter opened his eyes. He was laying down, body tired and quiet as the earth after a devastating thunderstorm. 

He was in… a pool of water? He sat up and lifted his hands up in front of his face, turning them over as the water dropped off them, dripping into the tranquil waters below. 

“Peter?” A voice hesitated behind him. He wasn’t alone? It almost sounded like—

“May?” He turned around and scrambled to his feet, water splashing out of the shallow pool he was laying in. They ran to each other and met in the middle, colliding in a warm and comfortable embrace. 

She pulled away, and held his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Peter looked around, “Where are we? I- I don’t understand,” May pulled him in, holding his head against her chest, fingers threaded through his hair. 

“Honey,” her voice was tender and in that moment, Peter understood. 

He was dead. 

All those times he had cheated death before hadn’t quite done the trick, but he was finally through. This was it. 

He hugged her tighter. “I missed you,” he whispered. 

“I missed you too, babe,” 

“May?” Another voice called out from a distance. “Who is that?”

Peter pulled away from May and looked behind her, “Uncle Ben?”

The figure stopped in its tracks. “Peter?” Peter burst past May and ran into the older man's arms. The smell of his cologne lit up Peter’s senses, bringing him back to shortly after Ben’s death, when Peter would sneak into him and May’s bathroom to dab a little on his neck. “Peter, why are you here?”

“I- I don’t know. I don’t remember.” He thought back to Before. What happened? What had gone so wrong that now he was dead? “I—“ in an instant, it all flooded back to him. The Europe trip. Quentin Beck. Pain. Being rescued. Then, nothing.

May joined them, pulling them both closer to her. “We’re all together again,” Peter let out a soft laugh and hugged them tighter. “It’s just like old times.”

But then, Peter felt it. Something in him flickered. Something in him changed. Something was calling him back to Before. May and Ben could feel it too. Peter was fading.

He looked down at his hands, but they were gone. He was being pulled back to a place he didn’t want to go back to. Here was calm. Here was comfortable. Here was simple. 

Before was not.

“Peter, I think you have a choice to make,” Ben clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder. Peter shook his head _ no_.

“I-- I don’t want to go back. It’s better here. I have you guys.”

“Peter, you will come back here eventually. It’s not your time yet.” May said, and Ben nodded. “You have your whole life ahead of you. Where did you go after I came here?”  
  
Peter swallowed and focused all he had on staying in the moment. “Pepper and Tony took me in.”

“See? Tony adores you. I might not approve of the danger you’re in as Spider-Man, but I know he will do whatever it takes to protect you. You have a family in him and Pepper.” He felt that shift again, desperately trying to drag him back to Before. He nodded.

“We love you, Peter. And we’re so, so proud of you.” Ben pulled May and Peter back in for one more tight embrace. 

May pulled away first, pressing a kiss onto the crown of Peter’s head. “Now go live your life. We want you to go enjoy your life to the fullest. Don’t look back. We’re happy for you. We’re proud of you. We love you.” Peter smiled and took one more good look at the two of them before giving in to the pull inside of him. 

“I love you two so much.”

Quiet murmurs floated around the room, mixing with the steady beeping of Peter’s heart rate monitor and constant whir of his oxygen machine. Pepper held one of Peter’s cold hands in her own, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. She and Tony hadn’t left Peter’s side since he got out of surgery. 

In total, Peter was in the operating room for about ten hours to fix the extensive internal damage he had sustained. All in all, it was a success. The vibranium sleeve for Peter’s heart was the most tedious and challenging part of the surgery, but it worked, and Peter was still alive, despite his heart stopping and having to be restarted at multiple points in the surgery. 

Everyone stayed all night in the waiting room, anxiously waiting for news of how the surgery was going. When Pepper and Tony got called back to see Peter after the surgery was finished, everyone else followed, and eventually couches were moved to Peter’s room so everyone could stay and sit. 

Right out of surgery, one of the nurses washed Peter off, the past month and a half scrubbed from his fragile skin. Tony washed his hair, water running red as it flowed down the drain. It was matted, and he combed through it as best he could with his fingers and massaged Peter’s scalp gently with shampoo three times until the water ran clear through his long, curly locks. He squeezed conditioner onto his fingers and detangled his hair until he could run his fingers through Peter’s too-long mop of hair without getting them stuck in knots. 

He towel-dried Peter’s hair and nothing felt real. The past twenty-four hours had happened so fast, the whole time a mix of anxious anticipation and dread and worry and stress flowing through Tony’s veins. And now that he had Peter back, exhaustion. He had never felt so exhausted. But every time he closed his eyes, Yinsen came back to him, telling him that his own death was always the plan.

It had been a while since thoughts of his time in a cave in Afghanistan had clouded his mind. But for some reason, they were back now. 

Peter was stronger than he was. At least they wanted something from Tony. He had something to do. But Beck didn’t want anything from Peter. He didn’t really even want anything from Tony. Just to cause him pain. It was a hopeless situation. 

And yet, Peter survived. Despite his massive injuries and all the pain he must have experienced, he survived. 

When Peter was moved into his recovery room, Tony couldn’t help but notice how much smaller Peter was. The frame and pins sticking out from his leg and knee brace protecting his new vibranium kneecap didn’t help either. His chest was covered in bandages, and his gaunt form looked like it was drowning in the double-shoulder braces he needed to wear. 

In short, Peter looked absolutely broken. 

It had been about an hour since Peter was moved into his recovery room, and Shuri told them to talk amongst themselves so Peter’s unconscious brain could associate his current surroundings with some semblance of normalcy and security. Tony and Pepper sat in chairs on either side of him and Morgan sat on the end of his bed, careful not to touch his injured legs. 

Shuri said that Peter could wake up at any moment, but that he might not be himself when he woke up. Spending that long in almost complete solitude being tortured by a man who wanted nothing but to cause pain would certainly change a person. Not to mention the heavy-duty painkillers that Peter was loaded up on to counteract his metabolism. 

After a little while, Peter’s eyelids fluttered and a small groan escaped his parted lips. He glanced around the room, and his gaze landed on Tony, eyes widening. The room went quiet and he whined, scooting as much as he could towards Pepper, wide eyes welling with tears and pleading with her. He opened his mouth and closed it again, like a fish out of water.

“It’s okay, Peter. You’re safe.” The steady beeping of the heart rate monitor quickened and Pepper whispered to him, stroking the side of his face with her thumb. Sam stood up from where he was sitting next to Natasha and Steve. 

“Hey, Tony, let’s go out here for a minute.” Tony looked up and him, back down at Peter, and back up. He nodded and pushed himself up from his seat and followed Sam out of the room. 

Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and his whole body trembled. A stray tear slipped down the side of his face into his hair, and Pepper wiped away the track with her thumb. “Shh, shh, you’re okay, you’re safe.” Peter nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. The bruises around his neck had faded to yellow and green tones, and he could breathe, albeit raspily. 

Morgan got up from her spot at the edge of the bed and sat in Tony’s spot. The room was silent, and loaded with tangible emotion, but none of them could tell which emotion it was. 

“Happy birthday to you,” Morgan’s tentative voice broke the silence. Her eyes darted around the room. “Happy birthday to you,” Natasha and Pepper joined her, urging the others to sing along. “Happy birthday to Peter, happy birthday to you!” The entire room joined together, and the act made tears well up in Peter’s eyes again. He had forgotten about his birthday. Had he really been in that warehouse for a month and a half?

“Technically your birthday was yesterday, but it’s never too late for a celebration.” Pepper pressed a kiss onto Peter’s forehead and Morgan grabbed his hand.

“Thank you, Morgs,” he looked over at Morgan, who beamed at him. His voice was hoarse and he tried to clear his throat.

“I really really missed you, Petey.”

“I missed you too, Morgs.” It was silent for a moment and Peter squeezed Morgan’s hand. “What did I miss at home?”

As Morgan rambled on about all that Peter had missed when he was gone, his heart rate monitor slowed to a normal rate and Pepper could take a deep breath. The vibranium sleeve covering his heart has never been done before, and even though Shuri swore it was safe, Pepper couldn’t help but worry. 

She forced air into her lungs and blew out, pushing down the rising anxiety. Both of her babies were here, in the same room, alive. She had everything to be thankful for. 

“Have you heard anything from Happy yet?” Sam asked Tony when they walked out of the room. Tony fought hard to keep his breathing normal. Peter, his _ kid _ was afraid of him. 

Happy and Rhodes had gone back to Paris to tie up loose ends and order the demolition of the warehouse shortly after Peter was taken into surgery. Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket. Three missed calls and one more incoming from Happy greeted him when his screen lit up. He held the phone to his ear and cleared his throat. 

“Talk to me,” Sam shoved his hands in his pockets, and shifted his weight onto the other foot. 

_ “Boss,” _ Happy’s voice was apprehensive. 

“What is it?” Tony asked, feeling his blood pressure rising. 

_ “The body is gone. Beck’s body is gone. There isn’t even any gore that would have come from a suicide in that manner. It’s all gone.” _

Tony’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. “What?” he eventually croaked out. “Last time I checked, bodies don’t just disappear like that.”

_ “I tracked the whole perimeter, and there’s no trace of anything happening. The body, the equipment, the chains, even down to the holes in the wall, it’s all gone.” _

“It was…” Tony could hardly force the next words out of his mouth without being sick. “It was all an illusion.”

Sam’s eyes widened. _ All an illusion? _ he mouthed. 

“So is that… really Peter in there?”

_ “I don’t know.” _ Tony’s stomach dropped. 

“Reactivate the level one search for Beck. Get more men on the search team, give orders to bring him in at any cost. Dead or alive.”

_ “Will do, Boss.” _ He hung up. Tony took a deep breath and started to push open the door to Peter’s room, but remembered what happened last time. He dialed Pepper’s number and she picked up on the second ring. 

“Pep,” Tony’s voice shook and he paced across the hallway. “I don’t mean to scare you, and I can’t explain this right now, but I need you to have Peter tell you something only he would know.” He shoved his free hand into the pocket of his jeans. 

_ “Tony, what’s going on?” _ Her voice was quiet, but Tony could tell she was on the edge of panic. 

“I’ll explain later. Please just do what I asked.” He fought to keep his voice steady when he wanted to scream. 

_ “Okay,” _Pepper set her phone in her lap and looked back over at Peter, eyes drooping already from the cocktail of medications working to numb his pain. 

“Peter,” he looked over at her. “Do you remember that day when Tony and I told you we wanted to adopt you?” Confusion crossed his face as he nodded. “Where were we when we had that conversation?”

“Um,” Peter brows furrowed and he let his head fall back onto his pillow, “Spicy Village in Chinatown. Why?”

“Oh,” Pepper let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “I was thinking we should go there again when we go back home.” Peter nodded and yawned, the latest dose of painkillers coming close to knocking him out again. 

Pepper put her phone back up to her ear. “He’s good.”

Pepper could hear Tony’s sigh through the phone. _ “Thank God,” _

“Tony, tell me what’s going on.” She spoke quietly so the others couldn’t hear her, and she was grateful that they had resumed their chatting. 

_ “I need you to come out here.” _

“Okay,” she got out of her seat and hung up. “I’ll be right back,” she opened the door and closed it softly behind her. “Is everything alright?”

“Pepper,” Tony put his hands on her shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. “I need you to stay calm and not tell anyone about this. Not right now. People might freak out and that’s the last thing we need.” 

“What. Is. Happening.” She accented each word and Tony leaned close to her ear and whispered. 

“Beck’s body is gone. Everything is gone. It was all an illusion. He got away.” Pepper swayed on her feet as she realized the gravity of the situation. 

“What are we going to do?” She lowered her voice and turned toward Sam, on the phone with his former colleagues in the military. 

“I told Happy to restart the search for him, bring him in, dead or alive.” She nodded and brought her thumbnail to her lips, a habit she thought she’d dropped a long time ago. 

“We can’t let Peter or Morgan out of our sight until we bring him in.”

"I agree.” Sam pocketed his phone and walked back to Tony and Pepper.

“I talked to the guys at the base, and they agreed to extend the search internationally.” Pepper crossed her arms over her chest.

“Thanks, Sam.” Tony said. 

“No problem. Is there anything else we can do right now?” Tony shook his head.

“All we can do is wait until he resurfaces.” The door cracked open and Natasha’s face appeared in the doorway.

“Can someone get Shuri in here? Peter needs her help.” Sam turned on his heel to Shuri’s office down the hall. 

Tony took a couple steps toward the door, trying to peer in through the crack. “Is he okay? What’s going on?”  
  
“He’s shivering, even though his temperature is normal. He also… he isn’t responding to our attempts to communicate with him.” Shuri walked around the corner, tablet in-hand. Natasha and Tony stepped out of Shuri’s way as she breezed by them to get to Peter. Through the now fully-open door, Tony could see the extent of Peter’s condition; to say that he was shivering was an understatement. His entire bed was shaking, and he was curled up on his side facing away from everyone, blankets locked in his grip. Natasha and Pepper followed Shuri into the room, but left the door open.

“The shivering could be from being held in the cold warehouse room for so long,” Sam broke the tense silence. “My suit read that the temperature in the room Peter was being kept in was about forty-five degrees. No doubt a torture method. I wouldn’t be surprised if Beck kept it that way the whole time Peter was in there.” Tony bit the inside of his cheek as Natasha and Pepper tried to coax Peter into relaxing. His heart _ ached _ seeing Peter in so much physical and psychological pain. 

“I just wish I could be in there with him."

Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “You will be. Not now, but you will get to be with Peter again. It just takes time. These things aren’t cut and dry. They’re complicated. But they don’t last forever.” Pepper crawled into Peter’s bed, and tucked him under her arm, as Shuri draped two more blankets over his chattering form. Tony nodded. Shuri adjusted a knob on Peter’s IV, and slowly but surely, his shivers slowed and his body went limp against Pepper. Shuri walked out of the room and met Tony and Sam outside the doorway. 

“It was psychological. He does not have an infection, and his heart is holding up perfectly.” Shuri seemed to read Tony’s mind. “When his dose of painkillers is reduced in a few days, it will be easier to reason with him, and tell him that you are you and not… Beck.”

“So he’s acting like this because of his meds?” Tony asked.

“Yes but… no. Of course he has significant physical trauma, but the psychological trauma he has sustained is also extremely detrimental.” She tucked her tablet under her arm. “The painkillers are altering his sense of reality to some extent, and that may have contributed to his reaction to seeing you. But only time will tell how deep the psychological trauma runs.”

“But he’s okay, other than that?” Sam asked. “I mean, as okay as he can be right now?”

“I have to wait for a couple days to run some more tests, but as far as I can tell, Peter will be fine.” She flashed a small smile.

“Thanks, Shuri,” Sam said and Tony leaned up against the doorway, unable to take his eyes away from Peter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is drawing to a close. It's crazy to look back on where I thought this fic was going to go back in October when I first stared writing it to now, and to see how much the story has changed. This story really does have a mind of its' own and I'm just along for the ride. Don't worry though, I'm not leaving this AU quite yet; I'll still be writing oneshots and maybe another multi-chapter work like this one.
> 
> Thank you all so so much from the very bottom of my heart for all the support this has received. I'm blown away.


	20. the damage has been done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this chapter is a little later than normal! I was out of my house today for ~15 hours which is A LOT for me lol.
> 
> This is a big boy chapter for y'all. A beast of almost 6000 words that I cranked out in a little under 48 hours. It does have some references to some of the triggers mentioned in the tags and in previous chapters, so if you're worried, check the tags:)
> 
> Title is from "Closer" by Johnnyswim.

Peter drifted in and out of fitful, restless sleep. His whole body ached and he was constantly cold, his very bones chilled, the blood in his veins icy. Whenever he closed his eyes, he was back in the warehouse with Beck. He was running and the floor turned into shifting sands. Beck wore the faces of the people who had come to rescue Peter. Pepper wasn’t really Pepper, Morgan wasn’t really Morgan, Tony wasn’t really Tony. Beck was back. He was there to finish Peter off, for good this time. But this time Peter wouldn’t let himself be taken. He would fight. 

“Peter,” Pepper’s soft voice broke through the fog and Peter blinked his eyes open, struggling to force air into his lungs, chest tight and cheeks wet. “Shhh, shh baby, you’re safe.” She wiped away his tears with her fingers and pulled him closer to her body but Peter couldn’t catch his breath. He needed to run, needed to get away. There were people in the room. He recognized most of them, they were almost all on the battlefield for the last push against Thanos. But what if it wasn’t them? It could be Beck. He might be there to take Peter again. It was dark in the room and shadows danced over their sleeping figures. Of course, they weren’t really sleeping. It was fake. It was just Beck waiting to pounce when Peter’s guard wasn’t down.

He tried to push himself away from Pepper, to get away, to run, to scream, but all he could manage was a pathetic whine. He pointed at the people in his room and Pepper squeezed his hand. “They’re—“ a hacking cough worked its way up from Peter’s throat and his chest burned and throbbed. “They’re fake, he’s gonna take me again I—“ Peter panted and Pepper shifted from her spot. 

“It’s okay, Peter. They're not Him.” She got up from her spot in Peter’s bed, the sudden lack of her warmth making chills run their course down Peter’s spine. She went down the line of sleeping forms in the room and gently woke them, whispering something in their ear that made them get up one-by-one and leave the room. 

When the door had shut behind the last person, Pepper returned to her spot and Peter could finally draw air into his burning lungs. The room became blurry and tears spilled from Peter’s eyes. “‘m sorry,” he whimpered into her chest. 

“No apologies, Peter. You’re here. You’re safe. You’re surrounded by people who love you. He is never coming back.” Peter nodded and pushed himself further under the blankets and further into himself, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that the blissful abyss of sleep would take him far away. 

Tony stood up and stretched his arms to the ceiling, trying to work out the cricks in his back and neck. The chair he had dragged from the waiting room to outside Peter’s room was obviously not meant for sleeping. He checked his watch. Three twenty three AM. He sat back down and sighed. 

Peter’s door opened and Tony jumped. He whipped his head around to everyone filing out of the room. He grabbed Natasha’s wrist as she walked by. “What’s going on?”

She walked around to face him and knelt down by his chair. “Peter thinks that we were there to take him again. It’s the PTSD wreaking havoc on his brain.”

“Is- is he okay?”

“He will be.” She leaned her elbows onto her knees. “Hey, we’re all going to the rooms Shuri set aside for us. Do you want to come with? I’m sure a real bed would be more comfortable than this chair.”

Tony shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, I need to stay here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think he is going to have a sudden change of heart in the middle of the night.”

“There’s something I need to tell you.” She nodded. “Beck faked his death. It was an illusion and he’s gone now. I- I need to make sure that he never hurts my family ever again. If he ever comes back I’ll—“ he looked down and thought for a moment and then looked back up at Natasha. “If he comes back, I will kill him.” She nodded. 

She pushed herself off the ground without another word and grabbed a chair from another room, setting it against the wall in the other side of Peter’s door. “Well if you’re not going to be sleeping, then I’m not either.” She sat in the chair and leaned her head back against the wall. 

“I’m sorry,” she said after a bit. “If we’d stayed behind, he wouldn’t have gotten away.”

“It’s not your fault, Nat.” She didn’t respond. 

“So where do we go from here?”

“Just wait until he shows back up. Never let Morgan or Peter out of our sights.” She nodded and he pulled out his StarkPad, opening a program that flashed a blue hologram into the dark hallway. 

“What’s that?”

“Legs for Peter,” he pinched the display and it zoomed out to reveal a pair of leg braces. “Shuri said he probably won’t be able to walk normally for a month or two, even with his advanced healing, so he’ll need something to help him get around.”

“You know,” Natahsa mused, “If someone would have told me fifteen years ago that you would be a dad to not one but two kids, I would have never believed it. Let alone a good dad.” He looked over at her. “But here you are.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It’s a good thing!” It was quiet for a beat. “You’ve come so far and I’m… I’m proud to call you my friend.”

“Oh, come on, don’t go getting all sappy on me,”

Natasha shrugged and leaned her head back on the wall again. “It’s true.”

It was silent for the rest of the night, and the two of them sat there until the early-morning Wakandan sun began to stream through the windows in the hallway. 

Pepper woke up to the sun in her eyes from the window across the room. It had a perfect view of the sunrise, one that she would have liked to sit and watch over a cup of coffee in different circumstances. 

Peter had turned at some point in the night, and now he was facing Morgan on his other side, who was now curled up against his chest, snoring softly.

When Shuri had examined him again before he went to sleep again the night before, she found that his bullet and surgical wounds were already mostly healed, and they certainly would be now. 

She checked the time on the clock across the room. Six fifteen. She looked back at her kids, sleeping under her arm. At least they had been able to get a couple hours of sleep. For Morgan, clearly it was the exhaustion, but for Peter it was probably the medication. The medication and the thought that he might actually be safe for the first time in over a month.

Shuri had told her that she was going to lower his drug dose today. That maybe it would make him lucid enough that he would be able to have a conversation with Tony. But after last night, Pepper didn’t think that would be possible. Peter was paranoid. 

And who wouldn’t be? After being held hostage by a man who could morph into any and every single one of the people in that room, and more, Peter had every reason to be afraid. Not to mention that the man chose to look like Tony for the duration of Peter’s captivity. 

Hopefully Tony had already spoken to Sam to come up with a strategy for helping Peter. Because he was going to need help. And if last night was any indication, he was going to need a lot of it. 

Pepper ran her fingers through Peter’s hair and leaned her head back down on the pillow behind her. Peter needed a haircut. She needed to schedule one for him when they returned to New York. 

She took a deep breath. One step at a time.

Shuri got to work with extending Peter’s treatment plan as soon as she woke up. His dosage would be lowered today and Tony was working on a plan to get him mobile as soon as possible. She had read up on the emotional damage that an event like this could cause in someone Peter’s age, and one thing that almost every article emphasized was the importance of rebuilding independence and control after being in a situation where all control was robbed. Establishing control, the articles said, was one of the hallmarks of being a teen and becoming a young adult, and to have something like this happen, where he was held captive and deprived of nearly every human right, needing to be saved by others, and now that he was safe, being so badly injured that he can’t even do basic human functions independently, would probably set him back by a lot.

At least he was alive. 

Shuri couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened in the past two days. Two days earlier, she was just going about her business per usual. Nothing out of the ordinary save for Peter not responding to her texts, which was not really new. Looking back, she chastised herself for being careless. Maybe if she would have only--

She shook her head. Reasonably, she knew that none of this was her fault. It would have still happened whether or not she had thought to reach out to Tony about the lack of response. Blaming herself wasn’t going to help Peter at all. 

She just wished that he never had to deal with any of this. He had been through enough already, even before this happened. 

She remembered the day when Tony told him that his aunt didn’t make it. Finding him curled in on himself on the floor of the bathroom, all hope gone. Who could have imagined that something like this would happen?

She drew out a chart and wrote down all the medications he was currently taking. She had always been a visual thinker. She looked at her calendar and tracked how long it would take to wean Peter off the different medications and found a solution that would work in New York. All Peter would need to do is take a couple pills throughout the day, and stay off his feet as much as he could. With his increased metabolism and healing factor, Shuri couldn’t pin down the exact amount of time it would take for medications to work or injuries to heal, but she was starting to get a pretty good idea; most of Peter’s wounds were almost completely healed already, only about a day later. 

And because of this healing factor, he may even be able to go back to school on time in the fall, and be able to walk without aid. In short, it was amazing. To be able to recover from physical injuries so profound, from near _ death _ so quickly astounded Shuri. Even with all of Wakanda’s advanced technology, she had never seen healing so fast in her life. 

She set the chart and calendar back in her folder and walked out to see Peter. His stomach should be able to handle solid food at this point in his recovery, and Shuri was sure that he would be ready to eat after spending so long without good food. She had been told that Peter had been fed during his time with Beck, but she was positive that it wasn’t exactly a three-course meal made with only the finest ingredients. It was probably just the bare minimum needed to keep Peter’s heart beating. And judging from how dehydrated Peter was when he got to Wakanda, even after four and a half bags of saline, he probably wasn’t given much water either. 

She stopped by the kitchen on her way to Peter’s room. Breakfast that morning was delicious: boiled eggs and chapatis, as well as fresh fruit. The cooks for the royal family in Wakanda always made sure that the meals were wholesome and contained a lot of nutrients to keep everyone healthy. And now Peter would get to reap those same benefits.

She carried the tray in her arms and approached Peter’s room. Tony and the woman who introduced herself as Natasha sat outside of his room in chairs, eyes drooping. “Good morning,” Shuri called out as she came closer.

“Morning,” Tony mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Shuri smiled and pushed Peter’s door open. Pepper, Morgan, and Peter were all curled up in his bed together. Pepper turned her head when she heard the door open and she offered Shuri a small smile. 

“Good morning, Shuri,” she whispered. “Sleep well?”

“More or less,” Shuri answered, setting the tray of food down Peter’s bedside table. “How was your night?” Pepper sat up and dangled her feet off the side of the bed facing Shuri. 

“It was a rough night,” Pepper lowered her voice even more. “Peter woke up at around three, convinced that everyone else who was in here was here to take him away again. We’re talking full on panic. He seemed to calm down a little bit when they all left but…” she glanced back at Morgan and Peter, both still sleeping behind her. “It’s still a big problem. You mentioned lowering his dosage today? Will that help?”  
  
Shuri picked up a chair and set it next to the bed and sat down. “It should help a little, but it will not fix the problem entirely. There is--” Peter shifted in his sleep, and the two women went quiet for a second so as not to wake him. “There will obviously be lasting effects, but taking away the medications will hopefully clear his head more and more and help him see things the way they truly are.” Pepper nodded.

Peter mumbled something and Pepper turned around and put a hand on his shoulder. He gasped and writhed away from her touch. “Pepp… Pepper!” he called out, sitting up suddenly, eyes wild, blankets now around his waist. When his searching gaze landed on her, his face crumpled and she scooted closer to him

“I’m here, Peter. I’m here and you’re safe.” She pulled him closer to her and made eye contact with Shuri over Peter’s head. She stroked his hair and took deep, over exaggerated breaths for him to mimic. When he had finally calmed down a little bit, Pepper spoke up. “You have a visitor, Peter. Shuri’s here again. She brought you breakfast. It looks delicious.”

Peter sat up and looked over at Shuri, who gave a small wave. “Uh, hey Shuri,”

“Hello Peter. How are you feeling today?” She sat forward in her seat. 

“‘ve been worse,” Peter half-laughed and shrugged, barely able to raise his shoulders with the braces on. His red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes told a different story.

“What do you think about eating some real food today? I think your stomach can handle it now and we can take you off the feeding tube. 

Peter eyed the tray. “That sounds alright,”

“Great,” Pepper stood up to move Morgan to a chair next to Peter’s bed and Peter sat back in his bed, fixing his blankets so they were covering more of him. Shuri could already see the goosebumps forming on his arms from the blankets being off for a mere couple of minutes. Shuri moved the tray to the edge of Peter’s bed and exchanged his oxygen mask with a cannula and tucked the tubes behind his ears. 

“You should eat the egg first, so that you can start digesting the proteins, which is what your body really needs right now.”

Peter swallowed his nausea. Even just the smell of the egg felt like a nightmare. He picked up the egg, and brought it to his mouth, shoving it all in his mouth and swallowing it as quickly as he could, praying that he wouldn’t throw up. Shuri handed him a glass of water, and he accepted it, sipping at the water and hoping that it would make him feel better. He set down the glass on the tray and Shuri handed him the bread next, tearing it into smaller pieces with her fingers. The strain of forcing himself to chew and swallow these foods that he desperately wanted not to eat made his neck ache.

After he had finished his slice of bread, he tried to take a bite out of the ripe and juicy mango on his tray, but he was full. “I’m sorry I can’t finish it,” he apologized to Shuri, but she waved the apology off. He sipped his water and leaned back, stomach strangely uncomfortable. After all that time without a proper meal, all the time spent imagining how good it would feel to fill his belly again, he didn’t think of how uncomfortable it would be to be actually full again. His stomach gurgled and cramped and the nausea returned as Shuri left the room with his still half-full tray. 

He pulled the blankets back over his shoulders and curled up on his side, closing his eyes again. When Shuri returned, he opened them and sat up a little. She held a slim folder under her arm and sat back down in her seat, Pepper coming around the other side of the bed to sit cross legged by Peter’s feet. “So Peter,” she started, pulling a paper from the folder. “Thanks to your enhanced metabolism, I think that you are able to start being weaned off your medications. I have come up with a calendar that you can follow to wean yourself off, and, if all goes well, you should be able to return to school on time in the fall with all your classmates.” Pepper smiled and looked over at Peter. He tried to return her smile, but the food in his stomach was begging to be expelled. “What do you think of that?”

“That’s fine,” he nodded, pursing his lips and willing his stomach to digest his breakfast quicker. 

“I also would like to…” she pulled another page from her folder, “start adjusting you to normal life. From what I can see from the scans that I have been doing on your legs, it looks like the pins are able to be removed. You will not be able to walk quite yet, but at least you will be able to wear actual pants. Pepper,” she turned her attention to her, “did you say that you brought some of Peter’s clothes with you here?” Pepper nodded. “After I remove the pins later today, Peter can start wearing them. I think it will make him feel more comfortable.” Peter leaned back again and pulled his blankets up closer to his chest, eyelids drooping. He hated feeling this exhausted. “So if you are ready, we can start removing the pins right now.”

“Sure,” Peter’s stomach rumbled again and he wished that he had just kept on using the feeding tube. Every time that he thought about food, he felt his stomach clench painfully. 

“Alright,” she got up from where she was sitting and pulled a syringe from a drawer across the room and injected it into Peter’s IV line. “This is a simple procedure, especially with your healing factor. However,” she turned to Pepper, “I will need you and Morgan to leave the room,”

“Oh, okay. No problem.” Pepper got up and shook Morgan’s shoulder to wake her up. That kid could sleep through anything. When she finally woke up, Pepper sent her out to go be with Tony.

Peter felt his heart slam against his ribcage and his chest tightened. The places where He had kicked Peter a little too hard and broken Peter’s ribs throbbed and it was hard to breathe. Pepper leaving? What if He comes back? Shuri glanced up at Peter’s vitals on the screen above his bed. “How are you doing, Peter?”

He turned his head to look at Pepper. “C-could you please stay?” His body was trembling again, the whole room suddenly colder than it had been before. He wrapped the blankets tighter around his body. Pepper quickly pulled a chair close to the head of Peter’s bed. She looked up at Shuri, who nodded.

“Of course, Peter.” He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force back the tears, but a few slipped out anyway. He fought to keep his breathing normal, but the chill in his bones made it difficult to draw in enough air. “Of course.”

“Okay Peter, you are going to start feeling a little bit drowsy right now, and that is completely normal.”

As he drifted out of consciousness, Pepper looked up at Shuri, who was untucking Peter’s blankets from the end of the bed and positioning Peter’s leg so that she could easily remove the pins. “Are you sure that’s normal?”

Shuri nodded and began to prep the leg with an antibacterial wipe, and then began to disassemble the frame. “In these situations, it is common for victims to have separation anxiety for those who they feel safe around. He fears that… Beck will come back and take him again. It is a reasonable fear after a kidnapping. With therapy, it should resolve itself.” Shuri paused to pull a long rod out of a whole in Peter’s skin with a large pair of tweezers, and then dropping the metal rod into a pan on a tray next to her. 

Pepper grabbed Peter’s hand. It was still cold, despite the warm temperature of the room and the blankets he was hidden under. “He is also extremely touch-starved,” Shuri mused while pulling out another rod. “And that could be contributing to his separation anxiety.” 

“How do we fix this?”

“Only time will tell,” Shuri pulled out the last rod and carefully pressed bandaids to the holes where the rods had been removed. “But for now, all you can do is give him as much attention and care as you possibly can.” She twisted a dial on his IV line, and tucked his blankets back in. “Alright, he should be waking up soon. I just adjusted the amount of medication that he is receiving, so he should be more himself when he wakes up.”

“Thank you so much, Shuri. I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

Shuri smiled and picked up the pan with the metal rods. “It is no problem.” She left, leaving the door open, and Tony wandered in shortly after, pulling Pepper close to him. 

“Hey Pep.” She leaned her head against his chest. “How is he?”

“Shuri just took the rods out of his leg, so that’s good. But when he wakes up, I think you should talk to him about how you’re… you and not Beck. But don’t say anything about… you know who not being where we expected him to be.” Tony nodded.

“I will.”

As if on-command, Peter sat up and blinked, eyes bleary. “Issit over?” he mumbled. Pepper broke away from Tony and sat next to Peter on his bed so that she was eye-level with him. 

“It’s over baby. You did so great.” Peter half-smiled and looked around the room, fear filling his veins when his eyes landed on Tony. Tony put his hands out in front of him and backed out of the room, almost bumping into Morgan on his way out. “Hey Morgan?” Pepper called out to the girl, “Would you mind taking Auntie Nat to find Peter’s clothes in my suitcase?”

Morgan nodded. “I will be right back.” She took off, Natasha barely able to keep up with the girl’s purposeful fervor. 

Tony leaned against the doorway and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and Pepper sat holding Peter’s hand, and trying to give him as much positive touch as she could. “Pete,” Tony didn’t know what to say. What could he say? Who on earth would have thought that he would have to have this conversation with his kid? This sweet kid who has never hurt a single person in his life? “It’s me,” he pleaded with Peter to recognize him for who he was, but Peter could hardly make eye-contact with him. 

“At your aunt’s funeral, you wanted yellow roses. Because she always told you that yellow meant joy.” Peter brought himself to look at Tony, studying him to look for the lies, something, anything that was off. “And before we went to the lake house, you had never really seen stars from earth. You had never been far enough away from the city and it’s light pollution to see them. And even though you’re a total science nerd and have one hundred percent already taken astronomy, you played along and let Morgan teach you about all the different constellations.” Tony took a step into the room and Peter didn’t cower. “But one thing that you probably don’t know is why Morgan loves astronomy so much. It’s because, after you died, I used to watch the night sky, looking, hoping,_ praying _ that you would come back, and after Morgan was born, I used to take her outside when she was fussy and talk about astronomy until the sound of my voice put her to sleep. Peter,” Tony’s words hung in the air for a moment and he took another step closer. “Peter, I love you, and I would never, ever hurt you.”

Peter’s lip quivered and he nodded, vision becoming blurry again. A broken sob escaped his lips and he pulled his hand away from Pepper to cover his face. Tony moved closer, close enough to touch Peter’s shoulder, but Peter flinched away. He opened his mouth and closed it again, dissolving in on himself and Pepper rubbed his shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

A few moments later, Morgan’s footsteps returned, bouncing down the hallway. “I found them!” She held her head high in triumph as she marched into the room and extended the t-shirt and sweatpants to Pepper. 

“Thanks sweetheart.” She turned her attention over to Tony for a moment, “Would you mind finding her some breakfast and getting her dressed for the day?”

Tony’s gaze lingered on Peter for a moment before he agreed, eyes defeated. He pulled the door closed on his way out and Pepper and Peter sat in relative silence for a moment, save for Peter’s sniffles. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter sniffed. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. Do you understand?” He nodded, keeping his eyes low. “So no more apologies.” She dug through the clothes Morgan had brought from her suitcase and she found the underwear she had packed for him. “Can you do this part on your own?” He nodded and took the underwear from her. “Let me know if you need any help, okay?” She turned around to give him some privacy. 

This was humiliating. Peter needed help to do something even as simple as getting dressed. He changed his underwear and took off the hospital gown-thing he was wearing and shed them in a pile by his feet. Chills ran down his spine as he sat on the bed in just his boxers. “Okay,” his voice cracked and Pepper turned around. She helped him pull his sweatpants on over his knee brace. Something felt off and Peter’s stomach turned but he didn’t say anything. As Pepper pulled his shirt, one of his favorite science pun shirts that he won at another science fair, he realized what was off. 

Lavender. 

The faint scent filled his nostrils and clogged his sinuses. His skin itched and burned and it felt like someone had poured acid over him. Peter clawed to get out of his clothes, and he gagged.

“Peter, are you okay?” Pepper’s eyebrows knitted together and she grabbed the trashcan from underneath the table by Peter’s bed. 

He tried to shake his head _no_, but the action made him even more nauseous. He grabbed the trash can from Pepper’s hands and retched every bit of food that he had eaten that morning into the bin, exertion making his neck ache and head throb. He reached up his other hand and clawed at the collar of his t-shirt until it tore and he was able to rip it completely off of him. He worked at his pants next, the waist of the sweatpants getting caught on the braces on Peter’s legs.

Pepper reached over and slammed the call button for Shuri as Peter was vomiting into the can. Sweat was beading on his forehead and he was shaking as he succumbed to the now fruitless dry-heaves wracking his body. She placed her hand on the clammy skin of his back and Shuri burst through the door. 

“What is going on?” Shuri closed the door behind her. 

“I don’t know, one minute he was fine, and the next…” she nodded her head toward Peter, head slumped over the trash can, taking deep breaths and trying to keep his stomach from spasming again. 

“Peter,” Shuri leaned on the edge of his bed. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

His lip wobbled and he bit it, hardly even able to think over the pounding of his head and neck. His vision clouded with tears and he couldn’t help it as they began to spill down his cheeks. He shook his head _ no _ and Pepper offered him a box of tissues from the table next to his bed. 

How was he feeling? 

How could he feel? Nothing was the same anymore. Every single part of his life, every single part of him was different. How was he supposed to explain that he could no longer eat toast and eggs without being instantly transported back to that warehouse? That the smell of lavender burned his nostrils and made him feel like boiling his skin off? That even the mere _ thought _ of Tony being around awakened a deep, immeasurable fear within him? How every action causes more and more pain, to the point where Peter doesn’t even remember what it feels like not to be in pain?

How could he explain all that?

“I--” he started, but was overcome by a force deep within him, a desperate, guttural wail from his very soul, one that covered every inch of the room in Peter’s deep grief and was a window to every sentiment that Peter had tried so hard to convey. 

Pepper took the trash can from Peter’s quivering hands and pulled his head into her lap, burying her fingers in his hair. Shuri pulled a blanket over his shoulders and moved his discarded clothes to a couch across the room. She made eye-contact with Pepper and slipped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Peter’s hands reached for something unseen, finally finding their resting place gripping the edge of the blanket for dear life. His sobs filled the room, and the sound of his pain made tears spring to Pepper’s eyes too. This kid. This _ kid. _ This kid who hasn’t done anything wrong in his life, wouldn’t ever even hurt a fly, was hurting. Who could do something like this? Hurt Peter to the point where he can’t even express how badly he was hurting. Before this, before it all, he had already experienced too much pain and grief for a child, for anyone to experience. And now this? Pepper couldn’t even imagine how he was keeping himself from falling apart completely. 

When the raging storm of Peter's anguish had quieted to an exhausted breeze, Peter finally spoke up. “I… I’m sorry,”

“Peter,” he shifted so he could look up at Pepper. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. So no more apologizing.”

He nodded before forcing a shaky breath into his lungs. “Before you found me, He used to feed me a hard-boiled egg and toast every single day. That was…” Peter shuddered and fought against the exhaustion that pressed into his bones. “That was how I counted time. I had sixty-four Meals.” He closed his eyes and tried as hard as he could to stay in the present, but he felt himself slipping. 

“Peter, you don’t have to do this,” Pepper said.

“No, no. I want to. I need to.” She nodded. “But, uh, anyway,” he sniffed, “Whenever He fed me, He would make me pay for his generosity and…” Peter pressed his knuckles into his eyes and took a breath. “You know.” The weight of what Peter was saying hung in the air and Pepper couldn't even say anything. “Some Meals were worse than others but…”

“Peter,” Pepper’s heart broke. The knot in her stomach grew and she began to feel like she might be sick if she heard any more of Peter’s horrors. 

“When I snuck out with MJ that night, He somehow made the streets smell like lavender, I guess, and because of my spider DNA, I really don’t like lavender and I was distracted and that’s when he took me.” It clicked in Pepper’s head. The detergent that she and Tony used. Since Tony had always been a particularly anxious person, especially after New York, she started using lavender-scented detergent. She hadn’t even thought about how Peter would be affected by anything like that. “And so when my clothes smelled like lavender, I kinda just freaked out.”

“Peter, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me before that the lavender bothered you?” Pepper felt a breakdown coming on but she pushed it back. No. Not in front of Peter.

“I just got used to it I guess,” he dropped his hands to his lap and picked at his cuticles. “And… well, He always looked like… T-Tony when he came in to… do things to me… and I guess I just can’t get him out of my head.”

A sob broke free from Pepper’s throat and she covered her mouth with her hand, pulling him closer to her, rocking back and forth. “Baby,” the word didn’t say what she desperately wanted to say. _ I’ll never let you go again. You’re safe. You’re loved. _

He shivered again. “He always kept the room super c-cold, and now I’m always cold, even though I _know_, I really know that it is actually warm.” Pepper wrapped his blankets around his shoulders. “I…” he knitted his eyebrows together, “I don’t know why I just told you all of that.” Pepper held him closer to her. “I guess so that you don’t think I’m completely crazy.”

“_Peter, _ of course you’re not crazy. Nobody would ever think that, got it?” She knew that what Peter was telling her was only the tip of the iceberg, but she felt like she might throw up if she heard any more. “And you know that you can tell me anything, right? Anything at all. If you,” she took a deep breath, “if you just me to listen, I can just listen. If you want my help, I’m all yours. I’m here for you, Peter. Whatever you need.” She felt him nod and lean his head back. He closed his eyes and it was silent for a few moments, leaving Pepper to process what Peter had told her on her own.

“Pepp’r?” Peter’s asked, voice thick.

“Yes Peter?”

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 300 kudos and 10000 hits?!?! I never imagined that this fic would be this well-received. You guys amaze me. Thank you all from the very bottom of my heart.
> 
> Now that you're almost finished with this story, PLEASE do yourselves a favor and go read "more peril in thine eye" by iron_spider. You won't regret it. I was a little worried that people would think that I ripped this story off of hers when she first posted it because it's a similar concept as mine, but she took mpite in a different direction than I was thinking so it all turned out okay.
> 
> Comment if you have anything to say about this chapter! I love to hear what you all are thinking:)


	21. but i won't let you go until it's over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has been crazy! I pray that this update finds you all safe and healthy. On that note (if you haven't heard this 5000000 times today), WASH YO HANDS.
> 
> Title is from "Trouble" by Johnnyswim.

“Suicide?” Tony’s mouth gaped open and he could hardly form words around his heart beating in his throat. It wasn’t real. No. It couldn’t be. Peter would never try to _ kill _ himself, right? Pepper must have just heard him wrong. 

“That’s… that’s what he said.” The air was heavy, bearing the weight of what Pepper had just said. She felt her breath catch and she pushed the panic down, farther into herself. She could freak out later. But not now. Not here. 

“No. No, Peter wouldn’t…” Tony paced around the room and pressed on his temples with the heels of his hands. _ “No!” _ he slammed his fist into the wall. The injury that had come the closest to killing Peter hadn’t even been from Beck. It was from _ himself. _

“Tony,” he turned around at Sam’s voice and leaned back against the wall, cradling his fist in his order arm. “Tony, you gotta imagine the situation he was in,” the tension was unbearable. “He was all alone, with no hope of rescue, being very literally tortured by a man who looked exactly like you. In his eyes, what other option did he have?” Tony crumbled, sinking down the wall onto the floor. Pepper joined him and Sam knelt down next to the two of them. “He had no control over his situation. If you were in his shoes, wouldn’t ending your life sound better in the moment than wasting away at the mercy of a man who wants nothing more than to hurt you, hoping for a rescue that’s not guaranteed?” His question waited in the air for a moment before Tony pressed forward. 

“So… what do we do now?” Tony asked

“For now, constant affirmation. That he is loved, that he is safe, that nothing like this will ever happen to him again. And later, when he is more comfortable around others, he and I can start therapy.” He paused, “And if he ever mentions that he is currently having suicidal thoughts or actions, number one, keep him in your sight constantly, and number two, call me immediately.”

Peter’s door cracked open and Bruce peeked his head out. “We’re done with our final scans, and he’s good to go home!” Pepper pushed herself off the tiled floor and extended her hand to help Tony up as well. 

“Would you mind getting us all packed while I get Peter ready to go?” He sighed and nodded, rubbing his forehead. As he turned away, Pepper grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. “Tony,” his eyes glistened with unshed tears, tears of grief, of sorrow, for Peter and for himself.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he whispered, lips barely moving. Pepper nodded.

“I know. Believe me, I know.” She slid her hand into his. “But this is where we’re at. We will get this figured out. It’s not going to be like this forever. Peter will learn to trust again. But for now,” Pepper pressed a kiss onto Tony’s cheek, “for now, we’re just going to take this day by day.”

“Okay Peter, are you ready?” Pepper asked and he nodded. Shuri and Pepper positioned themselves on either side of Peter and braced themselves, lifting him down into the wheelchair waiting for him. He hissed as he put a minuscule amount of weight on his healing legs and collapsed into the chair. Pepper tucked the blanket over and around his shoulders and he winced when she bumped into his knee.

“Sorry babe,” she murmured. She knelt down in front of him and gently pulled thick socks over his bare feet. “How’s that?” He nodded, lips sealed in a line to prevent the truth from escaping. The truth was that the blanket had settled a little uneven, slightly heavier on his right side. The truth was that his shoulder braces itched and he couldn’t reach them. The truth was that he was still a little thirsty. The truth was that he’d never been more humiliated. 

Everyone had already done so much for him, Pepper especially. He wished that he didn’t have to be such a burden. 

Shuri pushed his wheelchair through the open door and out to the jet, Pepper following closely behind. The breeze felt nice on Peter’s face and he closed his eyes to soak up the sunshine and fresh air. And despite his current physical disabilities that tethered him to the wheelchair and the care of those who loved him, he felt free, for the first time in over a month. 

When they got to the plane, Shuri stopped just short of the ramp. “How are you doing, Peter?”

“Good,” Peter mumbled, “Sun’s nice,”

“Do you want to wait out here until everyone else is on the jet and ready to go? Get you some fresh air before the long flight?” Shuri asked.

“That would be great,” Shuri turned him around and locked the wheels on his chair, and Pepper walked up the ramp to the jet to make sure everything was ready to go. Shuri sat down on the tarmac next to Peter and leaned back on her palms as the two of them looked out over the forested Wakandan mountains. 

“‘s beautiful,” Peter commented. Shuri nodded. 

“Maybe when you are feeling better, you can come back to visit and I can show you my lab.”

“I would like that.” The quiet serenity of his surroundings calmed Peter and he felt like he could finally think clearly for the first time in a long time. 

“Peter?” Shuri said after a few minutes of silence. 

“Yeah?”

“You are one of my closest friends.” Peter turned his head to smile at her. 

“And you’re one of mine,”

“I am sorry that I did not say anything when you stopped responding to my texts,”

“Wha… what do you mean?”

“You always respond to my texts quickly, so when you stopped responding, I feel like I should have realized that something had happened.”

“Shuri…”

“No, I mean it. Peter, you mean a lot to me, and if something were to have happened, I--” she stopped herself, the words unsaid saying more than the words said. 

Peter wriggled his hand free the blanket wrapped tightly around him and extended it to Shuri. She took it. It was still cold, despite the blanket and warm sun. He squeezed it and tucked it back underneath his blanket, goosebumps appearing on his arms as a breeze blew by. 

Everyone else began to file onto the plane by the stairs on the other end of the jet and Peter turned to Shuri once more. “Thank you, Shuri, for…” he searched for the right words, “for everything. Without you, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.” Shuri smiled and tried not to think about what Peter had just said. 

Pepper appeared in the entrance of the plane. “You two ready to go?” 

“Yep!” Shuri pushed herself off the ground and unlocked Peter’s wheelchair to push it up the ramp.

“Are you sure that it’s alright for you to come back to New York with us?” Pepper moved out of Peter and Shuri’s way.

“Of course it is. What is the point of being a princess if I cannot do things like this?” This made Pepper laugh. It was a nice sound and it almost made Peter want to laugh too. Almost. “Besides, as much as I love Bruce, I wouldn’t trust Peter to be in the best hands unless those hands are my own.”

Pepper pushed the door open to the main cabin and Shuri pushed him in. “Everyone else is in the conference room of the plane,” Pepper explained. “I thought you might like a little quiet so you can sleep, but if you want any of them in here, I’m sure they would be more than happy to come sit in here. Especially Morgan.” She winked at Peter and he smiled. 

Shuri wheeled him closer to the couch in the middle of the room, and her and Pepper lifted him from the chair and carefully set him down on the couch, padding him with pillows and blankets from every angle. Pepper and Shuri seated themselves next to Peter and a low grumble rose up from the belly of the plane. The plane taxied forward and soon made its arduous ascent into the sky.

Ned and MJ stepped cautiously onto the private elevator of the Tower. There was an inherently rebellious pride in their chests, the exhilaration of doing something against the rules, even though they weren’t actually doing anything wrong. 

They waved at the slack-jawed receptionist in the lobby of the Tower as the elevator doors slid silently shut. She was surely wondering how two normal teens had gained access to the highest security level required in the building. MJ had called Tony again the day before and he had given them temporary access to the penthouse to decorate for Peter’s welcome-home party. Not to be confused with his upcoming birthday party. The parties MJ had chosen to go to in the past just barely outnumbered the ones that she was attending (and planning) this week. 

The bag with the party supplies rustled as Ned shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He turned to MJ. “Are you sure that we shouldn’t use the party-poppers? Peter always loved the party-poppers on the Fourth of July,”

She stared back at him blankly. “Do you wanna think that plan through again?” MJ could practically see the wheels turning in Ned’s head, but an _ aha _ moment never happened. “You want to use party-poppers to welcome home a person who was recently _ shot _ and most likely has PTSD.”  
  
It finally dawned on him, “Oh, yeah. Good call.” MJ nodded and the elevator doors slid open to the penthouse of the Tower, and the two of them stood frozen in the elevator, peering out in wonder. Pretty much everyone they knew was obsessed with Tony Stark, drawn in by the wealth and the fame. And MJ would never say it out loud, but she’d _ always _ looked up to Pepper Potts. Why wouldn’t she? Pepper Potts was the most influential and successful businesswoman that MJ had ever heard of.

And now, MJ stood a mere step away from Pepper Potts’ living room. “Well,” she closed the gap and Ned followed. “I guess we should get started,” she slowly spun around, taking the entire room in. It was _ huge. _ “We’ve only got a little over an hour before they get here.”

“Wow,” Ned took a little longer to snap out of his amazement. “Yeah… okay.” He set the paper bag down on the countertop and unpacked its contents. He tossed MJ some red and blue streamers and ripped open a bag of balloons. “Let's do this.”

The flight had been long, but Peter hardly moved the entire time. He fell in and out of sleep, body still absolutely exhausted and in recovery-mode. He hated feeling this tired and weak and vulnerable. Maybe if he could just stay awake for longer than a few moments, he would feel and be safer. But with his lowered dosages of pain meds, not only was every waking moment excruciating, but every sleeping one was too. Without the drugs, there was nothing in his system to chase away the nightmares.

At least he’d gotten better at hiding them.

The rest of the way home was lost in a groggy blur. Everyone piled into cars and drove themselves back to the Tower. Peter looked out the window as Happy drove the car, watching the city pass by him. That was one thing that Peter loved about the city: no matter your circumstances, whatever was going on in your life, the city was constant. Forever changing, yet remaining the same day after day, night after night. Peter had left the city last time a completely different person than he was now, and yet, the city remained the same as the last time he was there. 

Happy pulled into the garage of the Tower and Peter felt strange. A misleading wave of homesickness washed over him, despite him being in the place that should feel like home.

When Pepper, Shuri, Morgan, Happy, and Peter had all arrived at the penthouse in the elevator, it all happened too fast, everything all at once. 

Morgan saw the balloons scattered around the room. She loved balloons. More specifically, she loved popping balloons. During her third birthday party, Tony had made the mistake of getting balloons for her. It was a mistake. Needless to say, there wasn’t really ever a quiet moment with Morgan.

Ned could hardly contain his excitement, running to his best friend and throwing his arms around him. The static electricity buildup from blowing up so many balloons discharged on Peter just as Morgan succeeded in squeezing the life out of one of the balloons. 

Peter gasped and ripped Ned’s arms away from himself, and tried to stand, to run, to do anything, but searing pain tore through from his legs to the rest of the body, and he crumpled to the ground, Ned catching him on the way down. There was only one thought running through Peter’s mind. 

He’s back. He’s back. He’s back and He’s coming to get Peter again. “No,” Peter rasped, trying with everything in him to force more than just that one word out of his mouth, but they were stuck and he was frozen. 

He shivered violently as Happy took Ned’s place and Ned backed away apologies flowing freely from his lips. 

Pepper knelt down on the floor next to Happy and Peter. Peter craned his neck and his eyes flitted around the room, in search of something that wasn’t quite there. “Peter, shh, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Pepper leaned closer and pulled his trembling form closer to her. Shuri pulled Ned and MJ aside. MJ’s typically careless demeanor was gone. She stood to the side and wrung her hands, face doing a lousy job of hiding her nervousness. 

Pepper made eye-contact with Happy. _ ‘Another day?’ _ she mouthed, nodding to Ned and MJ. He nodded and pushed himself off the floor to tell them, grabbing Morgan’s hand and pulling her away from watching the scene as it was unfolding. The four of them slipped around Peter and Pepper and into the elevator. Peter wrangled himself out of Pepper’s arms and into a sitting position. 

“Peter, it’s okay, you’re completely safe,” Pepper’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Peter’s panting was the only sound in the room. She grabbed his hands in hers. They were cold and clammy, and she was reminded of the days when Tony’s nightmares seemed unending and, even when he was awake, a part of him was gone, left in that not-quite reality of his hallucinations. 

He looked around the room once more, twisting his entire body to get a better look at his surroundings, and finally faced Pepper, his wild eyes breaking her heart. “Are… are you sure?”

“I’m sure, baby.” Peter’s shoulders slumped and his face crumbled. “C’mere hon,” Pepper opened her arms and Peter leaned into her, quiet sobs, shaking the pair as they rocked back and forth.

The elevator doors slid open again, and Happy and Morgan came back into the penthouse. Morgan sat down next to Peter. “I’m sorry I scared you,”  
  
Peter sniffed and cleared his throat. “It’s okay Morgs. ‘s not your fault,”

“Do you feel better now?”

Peter smiled. “What would really make me feel better is one of your drawings.”  
  
“I’ll go draw you one right now,” Morgan’s footsteps echoed down the hall to her room and ended with her door closing.

Happy helped Peter get back into his chair and Pepper took him back into his room. It looked exactly the same as it had when Peter left and Peter was overwhelmed by a wave of nostalgia for his life, barely more than two months ago. 

He took it all in as Pepper pulled some clean clothes out of his dresser and handed them to him. “Happy rewashed all of your clothes with an unscented detergent, so hopefully this will be better.” Peter’s cheeks flushed with gratitude.

“Thank you, Happy.” He turned to the older man standing behind him.

“No problem, kid.” His watch lit up and he pulled out his phone and left the room, apparently getting a call.

Peter looked around the room. “Is my phone around here anywhere?” Pepper shoved her hands into her pockets and leaned her weight on one foot. “I want to apologize to Ned and MJ. I feel bad about today.”

“Do not feel bad at all. They understand. Your phone is here, but there’s something I need to tell you first,” she pulled out the chair from Peter’s desk and sat across from him. “We were all scared. And we missed you a lot. So some of us-- well, most of us left texts. And… some voicemails.” She paused, waiting for Peter’s reaction. “But I can delete them all if you don’t want to see them. It would be super easy.”

Peter thought for a moment, and the sadness of the situation they would have been in bore into him, settling in on his stomach. “No… it’s okay.”

“Alright,” Pepper got up from where she was sitting and pulled out Peter’s phone from a drawer in his nightstand. She extended it to Peter and he took it, just holding it in his hand for a moment, not even turning it on. “What do you want to do-- bed, or couch?”  
  
Peter eyed his bed. It would be nice to sleep in his own bed for the first time in over two months. “Bed.”

“Do you need any help with anything?” Peter looked down at the clothes in his lap.

“Would you mind pushing me closer to my bed?”

“Not at all,” Pepper did as she was asked. “Call me if you need anything. Anything at all. Got it?” Peter nodded and she left the room, leaving the door barely cracked open. 

Peter set his phone on his pillow and changed into his clean clothes, dumping the old ones in a pile on his floor. He pulled himself up onto his bed and leaned his back against his wall and the effort left him out-of-breath. He stared at his phone, as if he could somehow see what messages it contained just by looking at it.

Part of him didn’t even want to see what was on there. It felt like when he would ask his teachers for letters of recommendation to apply for college and scholarships. Even to that day, he hadn’t read most of the letters he had received. He didn’t particularly enjoy the attention that it brought to him, or thinking of the time that those people had spent writing the letters. It made him cringe.

But his curiosity got the better of him and he picked up his phone and opened messages. Hundreds of notifications pinged his phone and he opened up his group chat with Ned and MJ. He would worry about the other texts later.

**Peter:** I’m really sorry about today. It was really good to see you both. I missed you guys.

He set his phone down and closed his eyes, thinking of all the ways he could have done better with the situation earlier. But he didn’t have long to beat himself up before his door creaked open and Morgan peeked her head in. “I finished my drawing,”

“I’m so excited to see it!” Peter patted his bed beside him, and Morgan climbed up and settled in. She held out her drawing with pride and warmth rose up within Peter. 

“It’s you and me!” She pointed at the two figures holding hands on top of a globe. 

“I love it, Morgs!” She beamed at him. “It’s beautiful,”

“Morgan,” Pepper called from the kitchen. “Wanna let Petey rest and come and help me make lunch?”

“Okay,” Morgan scooted off the bed and left her drawing with Peter. He couldn’t help the feeling that he wasn’t really alone. That somebody else was in the room with him. That He was in the room with him. 

The gravity of the contents of his phone pulled him in once again and he opened his phone to see two new texts.

**Ned: **OMG Peter!! You’re back! Don’t feel bad. We’ll get together another day when you’re ready. We missed you!

**MJ:** Good to have you back, Peter. Let us know when you’re ready to hang out.

He smiled and opened his voicemail, hesitating before clicking the most recent one from Tony. It was from last week. 

_ ‘Hey, kid. It’s-uh it’s me again. It’s been over a month. We all really miss you. Morgan has been having trouble sleeping because you haven’t come home yet and—‘ _ he sighed. _ ‘We just need you to come home. I need you to come home. I love you.’ _ The line was silent for a few seconds before the call ended. 

Melancholy sat on Peter’s chest and he stared at his inbox for a few moments. On impulse, he chose Tony’s contact and called him. He put the phone up to his ear and waited, almost forgetting to breathe in the anticipation. 

_ “Peter? Are you alright?” _ Peter cleared his throat. The terror that had always flowed through his veins when he had been with Tony after he was rescued was absent, and it almost felt normal. 

“I’m fine.” The words from his mouth surprised him. He was able to talk. “Just… uh, how are you?”

_ “I’m… doing alright. Just dropped your friends off at their apartments. Are you sure you’re alright? Do you need anything? Pepper would be happy to get you anything you need,” _

Peter swallowed a lump in his throat. “No, I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Tony waited for Peter to continue, but no continuation was made. _ “Peter, you don’t have a single thing to be sorry for,” _

“I… feel bad that I’m… afraid of you.”

Tony’s heart ached for Peter. _ “Don’t feel bad. Okay? Everything is fine. There’s no hard feelings here, got it? Whatever you need, you get. And if that’s space, fine.” _

“I don’t want space. I really don’t. But it’s just,” Peter’s breath hitched and voice broke. “I don’t know,” he rubbed his temples, “I’m sorry.”

_ “Listen Pete, it’s okay. You don’t have to feel sorry. Alright? I’m almost home, but I’m going to call Pepper and have her come hang with you, sound good?” _

“N-no,” Peter choked out. His breathing picked up and he tried to get it back under control. No. He wouldn’t get upset now. There was no need. “No, I don’t want Pepper.” He paused for a moment, and Tony waited. “I mean, I don’t _ not _ want Pepper, I just, what I want is, I miss you.”

_ “I miss you too, Pete.” _

“I just… whenever I see you, I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t talk. I just… shut down. All I can think about is… back with Him…”

_ “Pete, it’s okay. I’ll be there in a couple minutes and we can talk about this,” _

Peter sniffed. “I just don’t know… it’s not… nothing is the same.”

_ “No, kiddo. Nothing is the same. But we’ll find a new normal. We will.” _

Peter rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're SO CLOSE to the end. Thank you all so much for taking this journey with me. It's been incredible. I never thought I could do this, and every single hit/comment/kudos/bookmark has absolutely kept me going these past four months. Thank you all so much.
> 
> Also, y'all can expect a new chapter this THURSDAY instead of Saturday. It's my birthday, and why not celebrate by posting the last chapter of this fic a few days early?


	22. you know the best way over's through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks! I thought it was crazy when I was planning these past few chapters when I realized that this chapter would be out the same week as my 18th birthday, so I just decided to post this early so it could be on my birthday :). In the time frame of this fic, it's been a couple weeks since Peter's 18th, but I still thought it was a funny coincidence. 
> 
> Title is from "Let it Matter" by Johnnyswim.

Tony gripped the steering wheel and his knuckles turned white. He hated the city traffic that never really went away, no matter the time of day. He glanced over at the clock. _ “I think we have a few options in this situation,” _ Sam’s voice came over the car speakers. _ “You could just approach him when you get home and risk having the same reaction as the times before, or I could come up and chat with him, and see how comfortable he is, and start a modified exposure therapy.” _

Tony thought for a minute. “What do you suggest?”  
  
_ “In the long run, definitely exposure therapy. You just bursting in there, even if he wanted you to when he was on the phone, might set him back even further.” _ Tony hummed. _ “I’m free right now, if you want me to start. I can go up and talk with Pepper about it, and see where to go from there.” _

“That works. I’m pulling into the garage, you get started without me.”

_ “Will do. See you soon.” _ Tony hung up. He put the car in park and took the keys out of the ignition. On his way up the elevator to the penthouse, he couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever be normal again. How could they? If he were Peter, he didn’t know how he would handle everything. It would be too much for most people, and he didn’t understand how Peter could hold up under all the pressure. 

When he got up to the penthouse, Sam was already there, talking with Pepper on the couch. Tony sat down next to her. “So exposure therapy,” Sam continued, “Is usually done in sessions of about ninety minutes. It’s usually pretty emotionally distressing, especially in the first few sessions, but I definitely think that Peter will make a full recovery.”

Pepper nodded. “When can you start?”

“Right now, if Peter’s up to it.”

“Let’s go see,” Pepper got up and went over to Peter’s door, hesitating a moment before softly knocking and pushing it open. “Hey Peter, are you up for a visitor?” She poked her head into the room. 

“Who is it?” His voice was thick and he sniffed.

“It’s Sam. He just wants to chat for a couple minutes,”

“Okay,” Pepper pushed the door open a little further, and Sam slipped in. He pulled a chair over to the side of Peter’s bed, and Peter sat up a little straighter. He pulled the blanket a little tighter around his shoulders and cleared his throat.

“Hey Peter, I don’t know if we’ve officially met yet. I’m Sam.”

Peter nodded. “Good to meet you, Sam.

“Good to finally meet you, too. How are you doing?”

“Alright,”

“I used to help retired veterans deal with their PTSD when they came back to the States after their tours,” Peter hummed in acknowledgement, “And I thought maybe I could help you out, if you wanted help.”

“I’ll be fine, really. I’m sure you have other stuff you’d rather be doing,” Peter’s train-of-thought was interrupted by a violent shiver and he shrank further back into himself. 

“Are you cold?”

“A little,” Peter admitted.

“FRIDAY, turn up the heat two degrees.” She complied. “I don’t mind being here at all, Peter.”  
  
“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I want to help you heal, physically and emotionally. I know that you didn’t ask for a therapist, so you’re under no obligation to tell me anything. No pressure. You can talk to me about anything you want, even if it’s completely unrelated to this summer.” Peter nodded. “But today, I had something different in mind. Have you ever heard of exposure therapy?”

Peter shook his head _ no. _

“Well, in a nutshell, it’s exposing yourself to the things that you’re afraid of over time, and eventually, you won’t be afraid of them anymore.” He paused for a moment. “I understand that you’ve been having trouble being in the same room with Tony,” Peter nodded slowly. “Do you want to tell me how come?”

“Um,” Peter sucked in a shaky breath and tried to suppress another shiver. “Well, a man who looked like… Tony was there when I… when I… in the warehouse… and he always, uh, hurt me, like, really bad, and now… I guess I--” Peter’s breath hitched in his throat and Sam cut him off.  
  
“It’s okay, Peter. We don’t have to talk about that right now.” Peter rubbed his eyes until spots danced in his vision. “This must be extremely hard for you,” Peter nodded. “Were you two very close before this all happened?”

“Um, yeah, I guess. He… he took me in after my aunt… died. Him and Pepper and Morgan, they’re family. But before I went to Europe, I almost let Morgan die, and so I thought, when I saw Him for the first time… I thought maybe it was because of that…”  
  
“What do you mean you almost let Morgan die?”   
  
“She got stung by a bee, and I didn’t realize until it was almost too late. She’s allergic. If she would have died, it would have been on me.”

“Peter, that’s not your fault,” Peter looked down. “Tony would never hurt you. Do you know that?”

“Yes. I-I thought I did. But when I saw him again, and heard his voice, it was just _ so _similar, y’know? It was almost exactly the same and I… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No apologies in therapy, got it? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Okay.” Another apology tried to claw its way out of Peter’s lips, but Peter pressed them shut.

“Was there anything that He didn’t quite get right when He was portraying Tony?”

“He-uh, he said my name wrong.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Tony never calls me Peter. It’s always Pete, or, kid, or something. But never Peter.”  
  
“So that’s how you knew?” He nodded again. “How would you feel about having Tony in here for a little while? “   
  
“What do you mean?”

“He’ll just hang out, talk if you want him to talk, listen if you want him to listen. It’s just to show your brain that he’s not going to hurt you.”  
  
“That sounds okay, but I-- it feels like I can’t talk when he’s around. Like… the words are stuck in my throat. I’m sor--” he caught himself. “ I know it doesn’t really make sense.” Sam nodded. “What if he, I don’t know, asks me a question or something, and I can’t say anything? What if I can’t do this? What if--” 

“Don’t get caught in the ‘what if’s. Everything is going to be completely fine. I’ll be in here for the first few minutes, and you can always tell him to leave, or call Pepper if you’re uncomfortable. Sound good?” Peter bit his lip and nodded. Sam got up and stuck his head out the door, calling Tony. Peter’s stomach did acrobatics as Tony entered the room.

“Hey, Pete, mind if I come in?” Peter fought hard not to freeze up, but all he could do was stare. He was locked inside of himself and he sucked air into his lungs to try and break free. Sam whispered something in Tony’s ear and Tony nodded. Sam pulled his chair back to the opposite corner of the room from Peter and Tony sat down. 

Peter took quick shallow breaths and tried not to let the panic he felt consume him. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” Peter managed to dip his head in a nod. His jaw ached from the tension, but he refused to let down his guard. He saw Sam out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t feel any reassurance. 

“This is me, Pete. I don’t want to hurt you. You’re safe. Remember when we talked on the phone a couple minutes ago? We’re gonna figure this out together.” Tears clouded Peter’s vision and he tried not to let them spill. 

“But first, you gotta breathe, kiddo. Come on, in and out, just like this,” Tony took loud, over exaggerated breaths for Peter to follow, and eventually his breathing became deeper and more spread out. “That’s it, you got it,” Peter’s hands shook as he sucked down air and tried to remain calm. Every instinct he had told him that he should panic. But the hairs on his arms laid flat against his skin, the base of his skull giving no warnings that Tony posed any danger. 

Tony looked over at Sam. This didn’t feel right. He needed to be closer to Peter. He needed to hold him. “I love you, Pete.” Tony hoped that hearing that would make Peter open up to him. “I love you so much.”

Peter shivered.

Tony hung his head and rubbed his temples.

“I love you too,” Peter’s voice hovered barely above a whisper. Tony snapped his head up. His eyes were wide, as if his own voice surprised him.

In his fifty three years of life, Tony had never heard a sweeter noise.

“Kid,” tears pricked Tony’s eyes and his heart pounded. “Pete,” Peter took a deep, measured breath. Silence hung in the air for a moment, and the pull to Peter that Tony felt demanded action. But Sam had told him to keep his distance. So he would stay away. 

“How are you doing, Pete?” Tony treaded carefully, trying his best not to overstep any boundaries that might make Peter uncomfortable. But in reality, he had no idea what he was doing. 

Peter cleared his throat, “Okay,” 

He looked so uncomfortable it made Tony’s skin crawl. “Do you need anything?” A bead of sweat ran down Tony’s back, but Peter still shivered. “Do you want the window open? I’m sure the fresh New York air will be good for ya,” Tony chuckled, and Peter relaxed a little bit. He nodded. 

Tony pushed open the window and widened the blinds, the mid morning sun causing shadows to slit the room into ribbons. Peter leaned back against the wall when the sun hit his face. 

“Your friends brought back your stuff with them and brought it back here,” words tumbled out of Tony’s mouth to fill the silence, “Morgan took one of your t-shirts and has hardly taken it off since.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“MJ, how is she? I mean—“ his shoulders shuddered as he took a deep breath, “Did… did He… He didn’t…”

“No, no,” Tony knew exactly what Peter was worried about. “No, she’s completely fine. One hundred percent. She and Ned both. They just missed you.” Peter relaxed a little bit and he swatted at a stray tear that had slipped down his cheek. 

“Okay Peter, it’s been fifteen minutes. I’m going to leave now, but if you need anything you can call me or Pepper.” Sam got up from his seat and closed the door behind him. 

“I’m…” Peter hesitated before continuing. “I’m really sorry,”

“Pete,”

“No, I am. Nothing is the same, _ I’m _not the same. I… I don’t feel like I’m the same person as before.” He folded his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who I am anymore,” his voice was a whimper that made Tony’s chest ache. 

“I know who you are,” Tony scooted his chair closer to Peter’s bed. “You’re Peter Benjamin Parker. You like to eat apples with peanut butter because you used to be allergic and it gives you a thrill. You wear your socks inside-out because the seam bothers you. And for some unknown reason, you like pineapples on your pizza,” he slid out of his chair and crept closer to Peter, slowly, taking all the precaution that one would when approaching a wild animal that could bolt at any given moment. 

“You’re smart. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met. You have an astounding lack of self-preservation. You’re—“ Tony paused and knelt on the floor on the edge of Peter’s bed and Peter didn’t flinch. “You’re my son, Pete. I love you. And I don’t know what I would do without you.”

_ “Tony,” _ Peter’s timid voice broke in a sob. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out and his jaw snapped shut. He let his head hang loose from his neck, which still ached. “I tried to _ kill _myself,” he tried to continue, but his words were drowned out by his own grief. His shoulders hunched and his body was wracked by the devastating sorrow inside. 

Tony had never felt more helpless. “Pete, can I touch you?” Peter looked up, eyes bloodshot. He hesitated for a moment before reaching his hand out to Tony and pulling him closer to himself. 

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s trembling body and they rocked back and forth. Silence never came easily to Tony and he had to fight hard not to ramble just to chase it away. He doesn’t know how long they stayed like that, just that Tony held him until Peter’s shaking form relaxed and he fell into a fitful sleep. 

  
  
  


~~~

  
  
  


Peter sat in front of the windows in the living room, wrapped in sweatpants and a sweater that he normally would have put away until winter, soaking up the morning sun streaming through the glass. He looked out over the city below and Tony typed away on his laptop on the couch across the room. Ned and MJ played slapjack on the floor next to him. 

Over the past few weeks, Peter had been working with Sam on getting himself back. Being more comfortable with others and tearing down Beck’s hold on him. It was still a work-in-progress, but Peter was slowly coming back to be the person that he used to be. 

“School starts in a couple weeks,” Ned mused after throwing down his cards when MJ slapped the jack first. “Do you think you’ll be ready?”

Peter shrugged his shoulders and it pulled at his muscles. He needed to stretch. “Not sure,”

Ned nodded and picked up his stack of cards again. 

Peter sighed and leaned back, the usual melancholy settling in. Maybe someday he would feel like himself again. 

  
  
  


Happy checked off items on his list as he went. Peter’s friends sent him on a wild goose chase all around the city to get all of his favorite things for his birthday party that evening. But he was on strict orders not to tell Peter anything about what they were planning. 

He set the AI in his car to take him to a deli in Queens called Delmar’s. It was his last stop. He pulled out of the parking lot of the bakery he just got the cake from. He hoped that Peter would enjoy his party. He deserved the world. 

  
  
  


Later on, MJ finished wrapping Peter’s birthday present and attached the card to the top. She got him a Chewbacca Chia Pet, and she was sure he’d love it. All of his presents were set out on the dining table, and the room was decorated for a birthday bash, minus the balloons this time. 

She set the gift down on the table and thought about how far Peter had come in just a few weeks. After the initial incident, her and Ned met up with Peter a couple days later. Even just thinking about his physical appearance, there was a noticeable change from then to now. He was wasted away to mere skin and bone when they’d first seen him, burns and bruises colored his skin an unnatural purple and brown, his exposed skin laced with cuts, some deep enough to need stitches, others not. 

After that first day, Peter had asked her and Ned to come over a couple days later. Even though he looked much better than the first time, his appearance and demeanor still shocked MJ. To the point where she didn’t know if she would have picked him out of a crowd if she had been asked to. But the Peter she knew was in there, and her and Ned took it upon themselves to get him to come out again.

After a little while, when Peter became accustomed to hers and Ned’s presence, he began to relax a little. By the end of their visit, he was smiling, and had even laughed. It was a huge improvement, to say the least. He wasn’t quite his old self, and MJ didn’t know if he ever would be again, but he was on the right path. The path that led to some sort of normalcy in his messed up life. 

The elevator _ dinged _ and Happy walked out, big brown bags in each arm. “Did you get everything on the list I sent you?” MJ asked, taking one of the bags from him and peering inside. 

“Right down to the two number five sandwiches with pickles,” Happy set the other bag down on the counter and unpacked it’s contents. 

“Perfect.”

  
  
  


Peter shifted in his bed, blankets tucked around him for maximum warmth. He didn’t like to be alone very much, so he got out of bed and wandered out to the kitchen. The joints of the leg braces Tony made for him clicked as he walked, a constant reminder that he wasn’t himself, wasn’t really his own person. Despite this, the thick fog that he used to be completely immersed in had begun to lift, and Peter started to feel normal again.

Not completely, of course. Nothing could feel completely normal after the year Peter’s had. 

The lights were dimmed in the penthouse but an orange glow pointed Peter to the dining room. As Peter came closer, the room was filled with shushing and then Morgan’s voice rose up to meet him.

_ “Happy birthday to you,” _ the rest joined her as Peter walked into the room. Everyone was there. Tony, Pepper, Happy, Sam, Ned, MJ. They smiled as he came into view and their faces were illuminated by the birthday candles on the cake in front of them. Peter felt warm for the first time since Before. _ “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Peter, happy birthday to you!” _

He was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *DISCLAIMER* I don't have any background or qualification in the field of PTSD or therapy, so I apologize if I've portrayed any of the events in this fic incorrectly or insensitively. I Tried My Best.
> 
> I'm going to try to keep this note short because I know y'all don't care about me (skip this if you REALLY don't care) but wow. I'm speechless? At the beginning of this all, I was hesitant to even be writing. When I was reading fanfiction for the first time, I thought "I could never write that well" and I still agree with that. But I am so so proud that I at least gave it a shot. Even though I look back on the first couple chapters and cringe a little, despite them only have been written four months ago, I am still glad that I stepped out on a limb and did something completely new to me. I hope you all have enjoyed the ride! I want to reiterate to you all that your support is really what made this happen. Every bit of support has been imperative to the completion of this story. Thank you!
> 
> Life is crazy right now. Due to the coronavirus, all my classes are now online (there goes my senior year). I've written... so much? in so little time? So yeah. I'm thinking of posting the next work in this series on Saturday, thoughts?


End file.
